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A MESA TOWN OF TUSAYAN 



THE GODS ARE GOOD 



A PLAY 

IN THREE ACTS AND AN EPILOGUE 

BY 

CARL I. WHEAT 



WRITTEN FOR AND PRESENTED BY 

THE CLASS OF 1915 
POMONA COLLEGE 



GREEK THEATRE, CLAREMONT, GAL. 
JUNE 15, 1915 






Copyright 1915 

BY 

Carl I. Wheat 
I All rights reserved'^ 



©CID 40931 
4 

M 14 1915 



KING PRINTING COMPANY 
POMONA. CAL. 



INTRODUCTION 



In those days, long before Christopher Columbus first 
landed on the shores of the New World, there existed a group 
of tiny republics in a part of the America which he was des- 
tined to discover. Even then the people of these little "city- 
states" built their houses of stone rising story-on-story above 
the tops of lofty desert mesas, and lived in comparative peace 
in a land of fierce, nomadic tribes, against whom they fought 
only to defend their homes. Here they tilled the soil and 
developed a system of laws and government. They recognized 
the rights of property, and elected their rulers in true demo- 
cratic fashion. 

These people inhabited what is now New Mexico and 
Northeastern Arizona, where their descendants still live in 
the storied pueblos of their fathers. Here they cultivated 
maize and cotton, and wove the latter into a cloth which was 
the admiration of the Spaniards when, under Coronado in 
1537, the white men first saw the Pueblos — as these people 
are called. 

Three years after Coronado had discovered the Pueblos 
of the Rio Grande valley, his lieutenant, Don Pedro del Tovar, 
led a portion of the Spanish expedition to the west and north, 
where he discovered the Grand Canyon of the Colorado in 
what is now Northern Arizona. Nearby, in the very heart of 
El Desierto Pintado — "The Painted Desert" — he found another 
group of pueblo-building Indians, who called themselves the 
Hopituh — "People of Peace." On the summits of three rocky 
mesas, rising hundreds of feet above the sands, they had built 
their villages, and they retreated to these impregnable heights 
when attacked by their war-like Navajo neighbors. Below the 
mesas they tilled the f.elds, where the men of the tribe wrung 
a meagre subsistence of corn from the sandy soil. Their only 
water was that which seeped out of tiny springs in the rocks, 
and when these failed them death was inevitable. Such was 
the so-called "Land of Tusayan." 

The religious beliefs of men are largely influenced either 



6 THE GODS ARE GOOD 

by what they need most or fear most, and it is only natural 
that in the religion of the Hopis, as we call these people to- 
day, the need of water with its life-giving power should play 
a predominant part. In fact, nearly all their great relig- 
ious ceremonials are actually elaborate and symbolic prayers 
for rain. Of these the most notable are the Snake Dance and 
the Flute Dance, both prayers to "Those Above" for "the 
water that is life." In the Snake Dance the snakes are danced 
with and chanted to, and then set free with the prayer that 
they will go out and tell the gods about the Hopi's need, for 
the snakes are thot to be in close touch with the gods. In the 
Flute Dance we see a primitive dramatization of history and 
religion. The priests of the flute clan review the history of 
the people and in chants pray that the gods "may not forget." 
In "The Gods are Good" we are taken back into the 
ancient Hopi Pueblo of Oraibi as it was many centuries ago, 
long before the Europeans set foot on the soil of the New 
World. It is a time of terrible drought, and the priests of the 
Blue Flute Clan are about to enact their dramatic prayer for 
rain. The action of the play is complete in a single day, the 
first act being in the morning, the second in the afternoon, 
and the third in the evening of this day of the Flute Dance, 
'ixiere is also an epilogue later in the evening. 



SYNOPSIS OF THE PLAY 



Act One. Scene One. 
Hotewa, foster son of Cochewa, the old priest of Oraibi, 
has been chosen to lead the Flute Dance. It is a time of ter- 
rible drought, and the dance is to be the people's last despair- 
ing prayer for rain. Hotewa is in love with Nampeyo, daugh- 
ter of Tewani, the chief, and she with him; but Tewani 
promises Nampeyo to Tanto in return for the sacred eagle 
basket of good luck which Tanto wins in the race early in the 
act. Hotewa hears of this and tells Nampeyo and they plan 
to run away together to the land of the Tehuas on the Rio 
Grande. They plan to get away that very day as the marriage 
is set to begin that evening. But several incidents happen in 



THE GODS ARE GOOD 7 

quick succession to show Hotewa plainly that he, above all 
others, is looked to by the whole tribe to save the people from 
death and to prevail on the Gods to send the needed rain. 
Not knowing what to do, and torn between his love for Nam- 
peyo and his loyalty to the tribe, he at length goes down into 
the sacred underground council-chamber, or Kiva, to pray 
the Gods for a sign. 

Scene Two. 
In the Kiva Hotevva prays for a sign. A vision appears of 
Nampeyo. He believes it is the sign from heaven and is about 
to depart when it fades and another vision appears of the 
starving people dying from lack of water. He tries to look 
away but a certain power forces him to look at it, and he 
finally accepts this as the command of the Gods to stay and 
give up Nampeyo for the sake of the tribe. 

Act Two. Scene One. 
Preparations are being made for the dance. Old Cochewa, 
the grand old man of the tribe, climbs to the topmost roof to 
watch for a cloud. Just before the dance starts Nampeyo sees 
Hotewa, and for the first time knows that she has lost him. 
He seems oblivious of everything except the dance. It grows 
wilder and wilder. And yet no rain. Nikano, the scoffer, 
mocks the efforts of the dancers and Tanto joins him in con- 
tempt for the ancestral Gods. The rest of the people are 
almost ready to believe them for no cloud appears. At last, 
as the dance is finished, old Cochev/a, unable longer to stand 
the strain, totters and falls, and the scene closes as the men 
carry him down into the Kiva. 

Scene Two. 
In the Kiva Nikano, the scoffer, scornfully declares, "There 
are no Gods." The dying Cochewa rises and with his last 
strength calls on the Hopis not to listen, but to stand by the 
Gods of their fathers. In a prophetic vision he speaks of the 
rain to come and lays a dying curse upon the scoffer. As he 
sinks back a cry outside is heard, "The Rain," but he is uncon- 
scious. Then the rain begins to fall upon the roof and a few 
drops come thru the doorway and strike Cochewa in the face. 
His eyes open and he speaks, "God of my fathers, it is the 
rain! I die in peace." Out of the Kiva rush the men, sobbing 



8 THE GODS ARE GOOD 

and wild with joy. Hotewa alone remains with the dead 
Cochewa. He has done his dutj-. His loyalty to the tribe has 
brot the rain. But Nampeyo is lost, and Hotewa feels that he 
can no longer stay in Oraibi if he must see her married to 
Tanto. 

Act Three. 
The feast is on, for the rain has come and the "People of 
Peace" are saved. Everyone praises Hotewa, who led the 
Flute Dance. They say that he is still in the Kiva praying 
to the Gods and grieving over the death of Cochewa. Nampeyo 
alone knows what it really is that he is grieving over. At her 
father's command she is making ready to marry Tanto. When 
everyone has departed for the feast, Hotewa comes from the 
Kiva and says goodbye to Oraibi. He has lost that which he 
most desired and feels that now there is nothing to hold him 
to Oraibi. He has decided to go away to the Tehua villages 
across the desert. Immediately after he has gone, Nampeyo 
goes to the Kiva saying that no one can keep her from saying 
goodbye to Hotewa. She discovers that he is gone and spreads 
the news to the feasting people. Some go after him. Just 
then the news is brot to Tewani, who is beginning to wish 
that he had not promised Nampeyo to Tanto, that Nikano, the 
scoffer, has fallen over the cliff to death as Cochewa had said 
in his prophecy and curse. The people say that Tanto is next 
and draw away from him. Tewani cries, "My daughter shall 
not marry one who scoffs at the givers of rain." Tanto re- 
minds him of his promise; but Tewani, enraged, cries, "By 
the Gods I swore it — by the Gods at whom you scoff, — and now 
by those same Gods I take away my promise." He throws the 
Eagle Basket at Tanto's feet and bids him go. The act closes 
with Tewani's appeal that Hotewa be found. 

Epilogue. Tableau Scene. 

The scene opens as Act I, Scene I, with Mooa, the crier, 
calling on the people to give thanks for the rain. The Pueblo 
is dark except for a light from Tewani's doorway where Nam- 
peyo is waiting for news of Hotewa. As Mooa calls, Hotewa 
stealthily comes in to say goodbye for the last time to the home 
of his childhood, and to place a prayer-stick for happiness at 
Nampeyo's doorway before he leaves her forever. He does 



THE GODS ARE GOOD 9 

not know that Tanto is discredited. He looks in the lighted 
doorway and sees Nampeyo, and wants to speak to her but 
does not dare. He starts away but is accidentally discovered 
by Tewani, who leads him into the house. The door closes 
for a moment and the stage is dark. Then Hotewa and Nam- 
peyo appear and walk along the rooftop. As they reach the 
edge a distant peal of thunder is heard, and then, as they em- 
brace, Hotewa cries, "The Gods are Good." 



EXECUTIVE COMMITTEE 



Director William L. Stanton 

Assistant Director Carl I. Wheat 

Stage Manager William G. Metz 

Assistant Stage Manager Colvin Heath 

Property Manager Ralph P. James 

Assistant Properties Ernest W. Bougher 

Stage Carpenter Rollin J. La Follette 

Electrician William E. Hudson 

Business Manager Byron S. Phillips 

Assistant Business Manager Paul R. Daggs 

Advertising Manager Courtenay S. Overin 

House Manager Archie G. Postlethwait 

Chairman Music Committee Miss Florence W. Hoover 

Chairman Costume Committee Miss Florence T. Holme 

Dances Miss Francene L. Bishop 



PERSONS IN THE DRAMA 



A>j Old Pkiest in the Prologue 

CocHEWA The Old Priest 

Tewani Chief of OraiM 

HoTEWA Young Leader of the Flute Priests 

NiKANO The Scoffer 

Tanto Whose Fields are Broad 

Ahtowan A Man of Oraibi 

MooA The Village Crier 

SoYOMi Much Henpecked 

DoKOYA The Storyteller 

AlIWANTE \ 
NOTAWA ' 

lowANO / Yomig Men of OraiU 

YOWYTEWA I 

Nampeyo Daughter of Tewani 

Matase Daughter of Cochewa 

Tawase Wi/e of Mooa 

Watobe Wife of Soyomi, and Master of the Household 

Villagers, Flute Priests, Runners, Corn Maidens, Flute 
Maidens, and Children. 



Scene — The Hopi Pueblo of Oraibi 

Time — The day of the Flute Dance — a thousand years ago. 

Act I 

Scene I — The Pueblo — Morning. 

Scene II — The Kiva — Directly after Scene I. 

Act II 

Scene I — The Pueblo — Afternoon. 

Scene II — The Kiva — Directly after Scene I. 

Act III — The Pueblo — Early evening. 
Epilogue — The Pueblo — Later in the evening. 

10 



PROLOGUE 



^THOSE DAYS OF OLD ARE GONE IN TU8AYAN' 



PLAN OP STAGE— PUEBLO SCENE 




11 



PROLOGUE 



(This Prologue is spoken just before the curtain is to rise 
hy an old, robed priest, who comes before the curtain and ad- 
dresses the audience as follows:) 

Aliksai! In Tusayan the people were living, and it was 
many, many years ago; aye many plantings before the men of 
the white skins first looked upon the mesa towns of the Hopi- 
tuh, People of Peace. Then, even as now, they lived in their 
cities in the sky worshipping the Gods of their Fathers, for 
were not they the chosen people of the Ancient Ones, and had 
not the Gods been good to them? Long years they had lived 
here, since first the Spirits from above had pointed to these 
towering mesas and bade the old men rear their cities here. 
Here they sowed the seed of maize and it grew abundantly, for 
the Gods were gracious. Twice only had They held back the 
rain in the treasuries of the skies, yet each time the water 
came again when their anger was at length appeased. For the 
Gods loved the people of the mesa towns, and wished them 
well. And in this desert land the rain is life. 

So we take you back tonight into that ancient, mystic 
world of Tusayan, where men have lived and loved and died 
since time forgotten. Those days are gone indeed in Tusayan, 
but we may live them o'er again. Come, then, with me and 
look again upon the times of the Ancient Ones of elder days. 
Draw back the curtain, — time falls away, — in the twinkling 
of an eye an age-long thousand years are gone. It is the 
dawn! Draw back the curtain, — look ye once more on ancient 
Tusayan. 



12 



ACT I. 

^THE GODS HAVE FORGOTTEN US' 



13 



ACT I. SCENE L 



THE PUEBLO 

(Curtain discloses Puehlo in first glow of daivn. Low flute 
melody heard proceeding from Kiva opening. Then chant is 
heard, low at first — then higher and stronger as light grows 
stronger on stage. As chant comes to climax — enter Mooa from 
Kiva — he is naked hut for a scanty Weech-cloth and eagle 
feather in hair. Slowly comes from Kiva, looks about him, 
then climbs the ladder to the first roof. Again he stops — then 
climbs on to the topmost point. There he halts — icaiting.) 

Voice from Kiva. Call Mooa, for the day has come. 

Mooa. (To Kiva.) I call. (To village, musical call, long 
drawn out.) Ai — ee, ai — ee! Awake, people of Oraibi. 
(Pause.) 

Voice. Call louder. 

Mooa. Ai — ee! Awake! Already your young men are 
running on the trail. The priests have chanted thru the long 
night in the Kiva. It is the sixteenth day. 

Voice. (Slight pause.) Once more Mooa, call the people. 

Mooa. Arise! They dance today the dance of flutes in 
old Oraibi, that Those Above may hearken to our prayer for 
rain. 

(Enter Cochewa, Rear 2 — He is very old, ivears a skin 
over his shoulders ; his back is bent ivith age, and he totters 
as he tvalks. His voice is trembly as an old man's voice, but 
he has a certain nobility of bearing.) 

Cochewa. (Hesitatingly.) You call early, Mooa. 

Mooa. Yes, father, but the sun will soon be high. 

Cochewa. It is so. Many years I have led the flute dance. 
Now I am old. I pass it on to Hotewa. Call on, Mooa. 

Mooa. (To village.) Ai— ee! With flutes they play to the 
Rain Gods. Arise, people of Oraibi. 

Cochewa. Alas, we are in sore need. May Those above 
hear us. 

(Chant is heard from Kiva— also flute at intervals. People 
enter by twos and threes as Cochewa and Mooa talk.) 

Cochewa. (Talking on, half to himself.) Listen! In the 

14 



THE GODS ARE GOOD ^^ 



Kiva they are making ready, (Flute grows louder then d^es 
^,2 Hearken! You who dwell above. They pray tor 
Zl (CooUev>a sits on tenoU and roelcs to and fro vroamn, 

'" ' Moo!'^ Grieve not Cochewa. The young men are strong 

^""^ Cochewa Aye! But what is fleetness when the spring is 
dry' Ai-ee,' fSoS o1 grief) ai-ee! My corn is almost gone- 
Tclange of demeanor. He gestures and points as he speaKs) 
Hear me' I am old and fit to die, for my lite has been long m 
?usIyTn Gladly will I go. But there (points) in my daugh- 
~ho«se her baby is crying tor tood and (^^agM^^ 
mother's breasts are dry. (Rising.) Call on, Mooa. Call. 
Rouse the people of Oraibi in this time of need. 
Mooa. The Gods will surely send the ram. 
Cochewa Ai-ee! Who can tell. Let the old men die 
unmorrnerbut if the children die, the name of the Hopituh 
will live no more in Tusayan. Is Hotewa in the Kiva? 
Mooa. Yes. 

Cochewa. Today he leads the dance. 
Mooa Surely the Gods will answer (lis prayer. 
COCHEWA. May it be SO! I ^ave brought him up as my own 
son I have taught him all the secrets of the Blue Flute Clan 
and there is no one else who can lead the ancient dance-no 
one else who knows the secret things that have power with th 
Gods above. Give him strength, oh, you Ancient Ones. He 
alone can save the people. 

(Cocnewa totters of, stage rear 2, muttering to UM 
Re-enters as BOY ENTERS RUNNING lower left. People 
gather on stage.) 

Boy The runners are coming up the trail. 

Voi^E FEOM KIVA. Call again. Mooa, for with the runners 

"""Mo'r.Tome, people of Oraibi. Greet thy young men. 
Arise! (Long drawn out.) 

(Mooa slowly comes clown as people gather on stage--- 
exit into Kiva. Enter Notawa center. He cUmM nurr^edly to 
first roof— looks over rear.) 

NoTAWA. They are coming. 

(All look totvard spot at lohich he points.) 



16 THE GODS ARE GOOD 

lowANO. Who leads? 

NoTAWA. I can't quite make out. 

Voice from far away. Ai — ee! Ai — ee! 

NoTAWA. Look! They are starting up the mesa. A race! 
A race! 

lowANO. Who is leading? 

NoTAWA. It is (pause) Ahwante. 

People. (Confusedly shouting.) Ahwante! Ahwante is 
leading. 

(Enter Corn Maidens led "by Nampeyo, lower left. People 
step back to let them pass.) 

NoTAWA. They near the turn. 

(Enter Teioani from his dooricay.) 

Tewani. Who leads? 

NoTAWA. It is Ahwante, Chief. 

Tewani. Where are the others? 

Nampeyo. Come, father, hurry. 

Tewani. Yes, Nampeyo. 

(Tewani hastens doion ladder.) 

NoTAWA. See! They are passing the turn. Tanto — 

Nampeyo. What of Tanto? 

NoTAWA. (Excitedly.) Tanto is close behind — Ahwante 
stumbles — They are neck to neck — The turn! The turn! 
(People grow more excited.) Ah! 

lowANO. What is it? 

NoTAWA. Tanto has passed him. Tanto leads. 

People. Tanto! 

NoTAWA. They come! (Noise heard outside.) Away! 
Make room. Ai! Tanto will win. 

People. Tanto will win! 

(Enter Tanto, lower left, panting, but not exhausted. 
Ahwante staggers in soon after. People crowd around. Corn 
Maidens throw pollen over the runners as they come in. Little 
children pelt them with corn stalks.) 

Corn Maidens. (Chanting) — 

Brothers, — runners of the sun, — 

With prayers of rich success we greet you. 

Brothers, — runners of the sun, — 

With corn and songs of joy we meet you. 



THE GODS ARE GOOD 17 

Come and dance with us, ye runners; 
Come and dance with us the corn dance, 
That the Gods above may hearken, 
That the Gods above may hear us. 

People. (Chanting) — 

Come and dance the joyous corn dance, 
That the Gods may send the raindrops. 

(Corn maidens dance the Corn Dance accompanied 
by tom-tom and ''Ho-ya'' shouts of onlookers, loho applaud 
frequently. As the dance closes the corn maidens again throiv 
pollen over the runners and children pelt them with corn 
stalks. Tanto goes to opening of Kiva. People begin to dis- 
perse, talking to one another. One goes to the loom by door- 
ivay. A woman works on a basket on second level.) 

Tewani. (From above.) Come, Nampeyo. 

Nampeyo. Yes, father. (She starts up the ladder. Tanto, 
sitting on the bench of the Kiva opening, follows her with his 
eyes. She looks around and he quickly looks away.) 

Tanto. (Under his breath as Nampeyo goes into door- 
ivay.) Nampeyo! 

(There is silence for a moment. Then Hotewa enters from 
the Kiva with three baskets.) 

Hotewa. (Solemnly.) Tanto, you have won the holy race, 
and to you I give these baskets of good luck. Take them and 
plant them in your field and you shall have much corn. 
(Tanto bows to receive them.) The Eagle Basket! — The 
Storm Basket! — and the Basket of the Niman Katchina! 
(Raising his arm in gesture.) These are the Sacred Baskets — 
They are the most precious gift the Gods can bestow on you. 

(Exit Hotewa into Kiva. Tanto goes toward lower left. 
Stops as flute begins playing. ''Bull-roarer" used here to call 
priests from Kiva. Flute priests then silently file up out of 
Kiva and off center, stamping rhythmically, and chanting. 
When all are gone Tanto comes over to point beneath chief's 
doorway. Holds up baskets.) 

Tanto. Ah, Nampeyo! They call you Sipala, bloom of 
the peach tree. With these magic, sacred baskets I will woo 
thee. Watch carefully, for / will pluck the peach blossom. 
(Enter Hotewa, center. Sees Tanto and stops.) Twice you 



18 THE GODS ARE GOOD 

have denied me. This time / shall win. (Tanto starts to go — 
Hoteiua stands still in corner of house and is unnoticed,) 

HoTEWA. (Watching him.) Yes? (Quietly.) 

(Exit Tanto, lower left, and Hotewa to Kiva. Enter 
Cochetva rear 2.) 

CocHEWA. (Holding out two ears of corn — Tragically.) 
Ai — ee! My corn, my corn! Gone, gone! (Sits on 'bench on 
first roof still gazing at the corn. As he sits the low flute 
melody begins. As it grows louder he rises, looking far 
aivay — towards audience; flute plays softly as he speaks.) 
Oh, Thou Sun, Father of the Hopituh. In this hour of need,f or- 
get not Thy people. I think not of myselm. / am old, and when 
my corn is gone I shall die with no complaint. But, oh. Thou 
Spirit of Power, guide of the Hopituh, save Thou Thy people 
who this day dance the sacred dance of Flutes. (Pause.) It is 
all Oraibi that is calling Thee. 

(Cochewa totters down ladder, mutteriiig to himself. Exit 
center as Dokoya enters from upper doorway — not chief's 
house — and descends ladder, Dokoya begins ivorking at some- 
thing near corner of house. Enter Soyomi, running heedlessly. 
Butts head into Dokoya.) 

Dokoya. Hi, there, what are you after? 

SoYOMi. I'm not after anything. 3iy wife's after me. 

Dokoya. What for? 

SoYOMi. For the tenth time today. 

Watobe. (Outside.) Soyomi. (High, harsh voice.) 

SoYOMi. The Gods have deserted me. 

(Hunts around for some place to hide.) 

Dokoya. The idea of being afraid of your wife! 

Soyomi. Eh? What? You don't know my wife. 

Dokoya. Well, I wouldn't run away from her like this. 

(Soyomi peers cautiously around and then climbs into 
bake oven.) 

Watobe. (Outside.) Soyomi, oh, Soyomi. 

(He jerks his head in. Then in a minute sticks it out 
again.) 

Soyomi. (To Dokoya.) Help me. Send her away. Do 
something. 

Dokoya. Leave it to me. 

(Enter Watobe; sees Dokoya and 7nistakes him for Soy- 



THE GODS ARE GOOD 1^ 

omi Goes to hit him. He looks up just in time to dodge. 
Look of terror comes over his face. Watohe discovers mistake 
but is not bothered. Thru rest of this scene Soyomi peeks out 
once in a ichile. Sees Dokoya get frightened and enjoys it 
hugely.) 

Watobe. (To Dokoya.) Have you seen him? 
Dokoya. (Still scared.) Seen who? 
Watobe. Soyomi. 

DOKOYA. (Looking around.) He was here a minute ago. 
He must have gone out. 

Watobe. Well, I want him. The idea of him leaving when 
the corn isn't ground yet! 
Dokoya. Yes, the idea! 

Watobe. What? (Makes motion toward Dokoya, who 
dodges.) Soyomi. Soyomi, come here. 
Dokoya. (Aside.) Poor man! 

Watobe. (Quickly.) What's that? (Dokoya dodges.) Oh, 
he's a trial to my soul. 

Dokoya. (Ironically.) Yes? 

Watobe. Yes! (Sohs.) Poor dear. I have to look after 
him all the time. 

Dokoya. Yes, I notice you're doing that now. 
Watobe. (Dries eyes fiercely.) I'll show him when I get 
him. He'll be in a hot place. 

Dokoya. Ha! Ha! That's good! 

Watobe. Why? 

Dokoya. Because he is now. 

Watobe. Is what now? 

Dokoya. In a hot place. 

Watobe. Well, when I get him I'll— I'll— rCaZJs; -Soyomi, 

oh, Soyomi. 

(Exit Watobe. Soyomi sticks his head out. Starts to 
crawl out. Coughs and spits out ashes.) 

Soyomi. Ugh! What a place! (Coughing.) I nearly 

burnt. 

Dokoya. But you escaped her. (Looks apprehensively 

about.) 

Soyomi. No telling how long. 

Dokoya. I told her you were in a hot place. 

Soyomi. (Ironically.) Yes, I heard you. I was sitting on 



20 THE GODS ARE GOOD 

one hot coal trying to get another out of my ear when, — Ah— - 
choo! 

Watobe. (Outside.) That's his sneeze, 

(She Gomes running in. He dodges behind corner of 
house.) 

SoYOMi. (To Dokoya.) Save me. 

(Watobe comes up to Dokoya, who immediately dodges 
and tries to get away.) 

Watobe. (Grabs him.) You tell me where he is. You 
saw him, 

(Dokoya m,eekly points to the corner behind which Soyomi 
is hiding. He tries to get aioay, but she takes him by the ear 
a7id pulls hi7n along.) 

You're a fine fellow! Here I've been hunting everywhere 
for you. Why weren't you here when I first called? 

Soyomi. (Meekly.) I was. 

Watobe. (Fiercely.) Don't talk back to me. Come home. 
(Drags him along by ear.) 

Soyomi. Oh, (Plaintively.) I almost believe you don't 
love me any more. 

Watobe. We'll see about that! 

(Leads him out. Dokoya works away at his task.) 

Tewani. (Outside.) Cochewa, think how the Gods in 
years gone by have blessed the Hopituh. 

Cochewa. (Outside.) Yes, my son, I am thinking of that. 
(Enter Cochewa and Tewani, center.) How well I know the 
mercies of the Gods. May they help us now in our time of 
distress. 

(Enter Ahtowan and Nikano, lower left.) 

Tewani. Is it for long, Ahtowan, that the Gods are angry? 

Ahtowan. How shall I say? My prayers are nothing. I 
have planted the holy bahoes every day and yet no rain comes. 
What of you, Dokoya? 

Dokoya. I, too, have planted bahoes — to no avail. 

NiKANo. Perhaps your prayer sticks were not made right. 
Try again. 

Tewani. In my house the ears of corn are few, but surely 
I cannot believe that the Katchinas on the sacred peaks have 
forgotten us. 

Cochewa. (Tottering forivard.) Say not— say not that 



THE GODS ARE GOOD 21 

the Gods have forgotten us. Look! (Points right.) There! 
beyond Sit-yat-ki! where the sun touches the top of Dokosiid! 
I see a cloud! 

Tewani. I see no cloud. 

NiKANO. It is only the fevered imagination of an old man. 

CocHEWA. What? /, who have danced the Flute Dance 
since the days of Imatase? 

Ahtowan. What do you see, then? 

CocHEWA. Behold, beyond Dokosiid, I see a cloud rising — 

DoKOYA. (Looking.) What? A cloud? 

NiKAXO. (Turning aivay.) It is only a cloud of whirling 
dust. 

CocHEWA. (Going on.) I see it. /, whom men say have 
the gift of future vision. Even today the Hopituh shall see it — 

NiKANO. (Aside.) Yes, they that are dead. 

CocHEWA. (Continuing.) For the Gods are good. 

NiKANO. (Scornfully turning aivay.) The Gods! 

CocHEWA. (Starting after him.) Aye, the Gods! Take 
heed, scoffer, lest your mad tongue run faster than your wit, 
and you lose it, 

NiKANO. Well, before that day thirst will overtake us all. 
Then where will all your prayer sticks and your rain dances 
be? Ha! 

(Exit Nikano, center.) 

CocHEWA. (Looking after Nikano.) What can one do 
with a scoffer like him? 

(Cocheiva sloioly climhs the ladder and totters to rear 2 — 
exits. 

Tewani. Nikano thinks there are no Gods. What do you 
think, Ahtowan? 

Ahtowax". Well, I take the safe side. If there are no 
Gods they can't hurt us for believing in them. But if there 
are Gods and one doesn't believe in them think what evil they 
might bring to one. So I believe in the Gods. Take my advice, 
Tewani. Run no chances. You can come to no harm, and 
there's a chance of rich gain by believing in the Gods. 
(Exit Ahtowan and Dokoya, loiver left.) 

Tewani. (Looking after them.) How many of us there 
are who believe in that way! (Starts to go up ladder to his 
house.) 



22 THE GODS ARE GOOD 

(Enter Tanto carrying Eagle Basket.) 

Tajn'to. Wait, Tewani, I wish to spealt to the chief. 

Tewani. What is it? 

Tanto. It is about Nampeyo. 

Tewani. (Coming down.) Nampeyo? 

Tanto. Yes. (The two come down center.) You know I, 
— like many others, — have wanted her a long time. 

Tewani. Yes, I know. 

Tanto. Well, I have come again to ask you. Today I 
won the holy race. 

Tewani. Yes? 

Tanto. If I might celebrate my victory — 

Tewani. (Pause.) Yes? 

Tanto. With a wedding. Here, Chief of Oraibi, is the 
Sacred Eagle Basket which I won today. If you will begin 
the wedding ceremony between Nampeyo and me tonight, this 
basket shall be yours to plant in your field for luck. 

Tewani. (Starting.) What! The Eagle Basket of the 
race? 

Tanto. Yes, the Eagle Basket. (Holds it out.) 

Tewani. (Sloioly.) Nampeyo is old enough. 

Tanto. Older even than the most. 

Tewani. She, too, is a prize of great value. 

Tanto. Yes. 

Tewani. Others desire her. 

Tanto. (Quickly.) I know that. But I give you the 
Sacred Basket for your promise. 

Tewani. See here, Tanto! This morning you won three 
baskets, each of equal merit. 

Tanto. But the Eagle Basket is the finest. 

Tewani. (Handling it and looking it over.) Yes, it is 
the Eagle Basket. 

Tanto. It will bring great good luck. 
Tewani. (Meaningly.) Others are asking for Nampeyo. 
Tanto. I know. 

Tewani. Hotewa is a good man. Today he leads the 
dance. (Starts to hand hack the basket.) 

Tanto. Yes, yes, I know. But come. Chief! The basket. 
Speak. 



THE GODS ARE GOOD 2o 

Tewani. (Takes the hasket again and looks it over.) To- 
night, did you say? 

Tanto. Yes, it must be tonight. 

Tewani. (Slowly.) Well. 

Tanto. Yes? 

Tewani. You are a good man, Tanto, and you have won 
the race today. I have been in doubt before. 

Tanto. But now? 

Tewani. I am decided. Yes, Tanto, I will do it. 

Tanto. Ah! 

Tewani. Tonight. 

Tanto. You promise it? 

Tev/ani The Gods are witness to my promise. After the 
dance the ceremony shall begin. I say it, Tewani, the chief. 

Tanto. (Slowly.) And as Tewani promises, so it must 

be done. ^ . , ^^ 

Tewani So it shall be done. Make ready. Tewani has 
never yet broken a promise to Gods or to men. (Tewani cUmhs 
ladder.) Make ready. 

(Exit Teivani thru his doonvay.) 

Tanto (Starts away, then looks furtively hack at Te- 
ivani ) Ah, Nampeyo, this time you will not escape me. This 
time the promise has been made. Tonight I shall lay my bas- 
kets at your door. 

(Exit Tanto, lower left, hearing young men coming. En- 
ter young men, loiaano, Ahwante, Yowytewa, and others, cen- 
ter Play 'Teon" game, laugh and hanter one another. No- 
tawa enters from Kiva, while game is on. Stands and watches 
it Tewani also comes in aDove, and later descends ladder. 
Enter Ahtowan and Soyomi center. All gather around to 
watch game and applaud winners. As game progresses one 
holds out a piece of colored wood and others try to get it. 
Finally, the one with the ohject gives a yell and runs out 
center with all the rest, except Teioani, Ahtowan, Soyomi and 
Hotewa, after him pell mell, laughing and yelling.) 

Tewani. I wish I could laugh, today, half as easily as 
they do. 

HoTEW^A. So do I. 

Ahtowan Ha! Ha! (Slaps knee in laughter.) You two! 
Chief of Oraibi and leader of the Flute Priests. No wonder 



24 THE GODS ARE GOOD 

you're so full of care and worry! But the Hopis, (Gestures 
after people.) they are too carefree, — too light-hearted, — too 
joyful— to be solemn. 

SoYOMi. (Comically.) Aye! that's true! IV s no use to 
be solemn! If you had a wife, Hotewa, you'd know. 

Tewani. I believe my people would play in the very face 
of death. 

AiiTOWAN. The face of death is all about us, Tewani. 
Death lies too near us desert folk for us to feur it. If we did 
think about it we should never smile at all. So it's good that 
the Hopis are light-hearted. Happy and carefree, they get the 
most out of life. 

Hotewa. But it is good for some to take the cares of the 
people. 

Tewani. Is everything ready for the dance, Hotewa? 

Hotewa. Yes, all is ready. 

Tewani. Dance well today, my boy. The rain alone will 
save us. 

Hotewa. In the faith of the Gods of old I shall lead the 
Flute Dance. 

Tewani. And tonight we shall feast. 

Ahtowan. Yes, if there is left any corn to feast on. You 
must be strong, Hotewa. The people look to you today to lead 
the dance well. Go and make ready and place a Baho at the 
spring. 

Watobe. (Outside.) Soyomi, oh Soyomi! 

SoYOMi. (Dejectedly.) And I must to my labors go. 

(Enter Nampeyo above — smiles at Hotewa as he goes out 
and waves to him. Exit Hotewa to Kiva, and Soyomi center.) 

Nampeyo. Father, oh father! 

Tewani. Yes, my child. 

Nampeyo. Come, the corn is parched and ready. 

(Exit Nampeyo thru the Chiefs dooricay.) 

Tewani. (To Ahtowan.) Do you remember, Ahtowan, 
when we played together, we three in those days so long ago? 
How like her mother she is! 

Ahtowan. Yes, Tewani, I remember. I can still see the 
little houses we used to make of mud and pebbles. We used 
to say we would always live together, but you won her, — and 



THE GODS ARE GOOD 25 

now — she is gone. But you have little Nampeyo. We all have 
little Nampeyo. 

(Cochewa enters center, tottering along.) 

Tewani. No longer little, but grown to womanhood. She 
is the light of my house, Ahtowan, and I can not bear to think 
of losing her, and yet — 

Ahtowan. (Quickly.) And yet? 

Cochewa. What — is our little birdling going to fly away? 

Tewani. Not far, Cochewa, not far. 

Cochewa. Well I remember, Tewani, when her mother was 
a tiny baby, and I carried her out to see the sun for the first 
time. That was long ago, but I still remember how she rubbed 
her eyes with her little fists and cried as the sun rose over 
Dokoslid. 

Tewani. And now her daughter is a woman. 

Cochewa. Just at the age of Hotewa. 

Nampeyo. (From doorway.) Come father. 

Tewani. Yes, little one, I am coming. (Starts up ladder.) 

Ahtowan. But who is he? To whom are you going to 
give our little girl? 

Cochewa. He must be happy who is going to possess her. 

Tewani. Even as i was years ago when her mother came 
to me. (Matter of fact.) Yes, tonight the wedding ceremony 
is to begin. 

Ahtowan. But who? 

Cochewa. Yes, is it — 

Tewani. (Suddenly and rather sharply.) It is Tanto! 

Cochewa. (Surprised.) Tanto? Why I thot — 

Tewani. Tonight the ceremonial baskets will be laid be- 
fore the door. I have promised it, and I never yet have broken 
a promise. 

(Tewani climbs ladder. Exit thru his doorway.) 

Cochewa. (Looking after him, talking to self.) Nampeyo 
married to Tanto? 

Ahtowan. (Starting off, right.) Come with me Cochewa. 

Cochewa. (Tottering after and looking back at times.) 
Yes — but — I don't understand. Hotewa is — is — 

Ahtowan. Come. 

(As they pass the Eiva Hoteiva comes out. Cochewa 
stops.) 



26 THE GODS ARE GOOD 

CocHEWA. Hotewa, my son. 

HoTEWA. What is it, my father? . 

CocHEWA. I have brought you up as my own child, Ho- 
tewa, I want to see you happy. 

Hotewa. I am sure of it father. 

CocHEWA. Look well to the dance today. You are the 
only one who knows the secret words. 

HoTEWA. With tne help of the Gods I shall lead it well. 

CocHEWA. And do not grieve, my son, over Nampeyo, 

HoTEWA. (Smiling.) Why grieve? She is — 

CocHEWA. What? 

HoTEWA. She is to marry me, — after the rain has come. 

CocHEWA. (Quickly.) She is to marry Tcinto. 

HoTEWA. Who? 

CocHEWA. The Chief has promised it. 

HoTEWA, Tanto? 

CocHEWA. Yes! 

HoTEWA. Why — why — 

CocHEWA. The Chief has sworn it. He told us but a 
moment ago. 

HoTEWA. (Turning away.) Oh, I feared it. I feared it. 
Tanto is great, Tanto is powerful, Tanto is rich, and I — I am 
only a flute dancer. 

CocHEWA. You will be the saviour of your people. 

HoTEWA. (Rather titterly.) And lose Nampeyo? Go Co- 
chewa, go. I must speak to her alone. 

(Exit Cochewa and Ahtowan, right. Hoteum starts toicard 
house. Hears young men's voices off left and goes to Kiva. 
Enter Tanto, Ahwante, Notawa, lowano, Yoivyteiva, lower left.) 

Ahwante. Tell us. 

Others. (Except Tanto.) Yes, tell us. What is it? 

Tanto. (Haughtily.) Wait,— till tonight. 

Others. No, now. Tell us now. 

Tanto. Well, I'll tell you. You know our pretty Nam- 
peyo? 

Others. Yes? 

Tanto. How do you like her? 

Ahwante. Most beautiful of all our women. 

Tanto. Yes? 

Notawa. Her father has much corn. 



THE GODS ARE GOOD 27 

Tanto. Yes? 

YowYTEWA. And he's the Chief. 

Tanto. (More gleefully.) Yes! 

lowANO. They say that Hotewa — 

Tanto. Hotewa? What of Hotewa? 

lowANO. The people say that Hotewa and she will be — 

Tanto. Go on. 

lowAxo. Be married. 

Taxto. fBraggingly.; O ho! The people say that, do 
they? Ha! Ha! Well, here's the time both the people and 
Hotewa are fooled. Listen! Tonight I lay the baskets of mar- 
riage before the door of pretty Nampeyo. As soon as the dance 
is over our marriage ceremony is to begin. 

Others. What! You, Tanto? 

Tanto. Yes, I, Tanto! The Chief, Tewani, promised me 
not an hour ago. 

lowAxo. But what of Hotewa? 

Tanto. Hotewa be damned. What care I for Hotewa? 
Why does everyone make such a fuss over Hotewa? 

Iowano. Hotewa is to lead the Flute Dance. 

Tanto. Well, what of that? 

lOAWANO. We look to him to bring the rain. 

Tanto. (Scornfully.) Yes? Well you just ivatch for all 
the rain he brings. And as for Nampeyo, ivatch me. 

Yowytewa. What does Nampeyo say? 

Tanto. (Pause.) The chief has promised it! 

Yowytewa. Look — there she comes now. 

(Enter Nampeyo above. She waves at group. They are 
talking together. She descends ladder.) 

Ahwante. And how is Nampeyo this morning? Um 
hakani, Nampeyo? 

Nampeyo. Lolomi, Quatze! I am happy. 

Yowytewa. As always. 

Nampeyo. Yes, as alwaj^s. Now I go to get our last corn. 
Oh, but we'll get some more somehow, I'm sure. 

Tanto. Let me go with you and carry it. 

Nampeyo. You, Tanto? 

Tanto. Yes. 

Nampeyo. (Turns her hack.) No, I would rather you 
wouldn't. Come, Ahwante, you will carry my corn, won't you? 



28 THE GODS ARE GOOD 

(Takes Mm off with her, center.) 

(All look at Tanto for a minute, then laugh.) 

NoTAWA. Sof You're going to marry Nampeyo, are you? 

Tanto. (Furiously.) Wait and see. 

(Exit Tanto angrily, left.) 

NoTAWA. The Hopi woman usually rules the household, 
but perhaps the Chief is master in his house. 

lowANO. But how did Tanto get him to promise? 

YowYTEWA. Oh, he tricked him somehow. 

(Exit Notawa, Yowytewa and loioano, center, saying to- 
gether — ''Yes, that's right,'' etc. When they have gone the 
chant is heard from, behind scenes. Nampeyo and Ahtvante 
come in with corn. They climh the ladder and Ahwante gives 
her the corn at her doorivay. With a ''Thank you, Ahivante,'" 
she goes in, and he exits rear 2, after looking after her a 
moment. Then Hotewa slowly comes from Kiva. whistles an 
odd, Mrd-like ivhistle under Nampeyo's doorivay. Enter Nam- 
peyo; looks around and sees Hotewa heloio.) 

Nampeyo. (With feeling.) Hotewa. 

Hotewa. (Sadly and tenderly.) Nampeyo. 

Nampeyo. What is it? You look weary. What is the 
matter? Is it the drought — or the dance? 

Hotewa. No, little one, not that. 

Nampeyo. What, then. Come, tell your Nampeyo, (She 
sits on edge. Hotewa climbs ladder until he is even loith her.) 
Now tell me. (Touches his hair with her finger.) Perhaps T 
can help you. 

Hotewa. Don't you know already? 

Nampeyo. No, what is it? 

Hotewa. Haven't you heard? 

Nampeyo. (Cheerfully.) Haven't I heard? Why no, only 
the memory of your voice. I hear that always. Come, what 
is it that frightens my Hotewa? 

Hotewa. Not long, Nampeyo, can you call me your Ho- 
tewa. 

Nampeyo. What! Why not? 

Hotewa. (Slotoly.) Because tonight, my little peach 



THE GODS ARE GOOD 29 

blossom, — tonight the ceremonies are to begin, and you are 
to become the bride of — (Pause as Nampeyo starts and leans 
forward, dreathing heavily) — TANTO. 

(Nampeyo starts hack. Pause, then she leans slowly over 
to Hotewa and ivhispers in a terrihle tone.) 

Nampeyo. TANTO ! 

HoTEWA. Yes, Tanto. The Chief, your father, has prom- 
ised it. 

Nampeyo. (Tensely.) To him? 

Hotewa. Yes. 

Nampeyo. Oh, but I sluill not. I care nothing for Tanto. 
It is you, Hotewa, whom I am going to marry. 

(Touches his forehead.) 

Hotewa. My Sipala Lolomi! 

Nampeyo. It is for me to decide. In a Hopi house is not 
the woman master? 

Hotewa. Aye! 

Nampeyo. Then, shall I marry whom I hate? No, never. 
Hotewa, it is you whom I shall marry. 

(Clings to him.) 

Hotewa. (Sloiuly.) Yes, the woman is master in Hopi- 
land, but — 

Nampeyo. What? 

Hotewa, You know your father. He has promised it, and 
that is the end. (Nampeyo sinks hack disconsolate.) Oh, Nam- 
peyo, that which I have feared so long has come. And so I 
have come — to say — goodbye — to — you I can never call you 
again as I have called you now. 

Nampeyo. (Wonderingly.) Good bye? — Good bye? (Pause, 
then she leans forward and clings to him. He puts his arm 
gently around her.) Must you and I say good bye? No, no! 
(Passionately.) NO! (Leans on him.) MY Hotewa, NO! — 
Oh, I can't think! Tanto, Tanto. Oh, Hotewa, hold me. Press 
closer to me and give me strength. Listen, have you talked 
with my father? 

Hotewa. No, but you know whatever he has promised 
must be done. 

Nampeyo. And has he promised? 

Hotewa. Yes, promised. Cochewa told me. And the bas- 
kets are to be placed before your door tonight. 



30 THE GODS ARE GOOD 

Nampeyo. (Questioningly.) And are you going to let — me 
—go? 

HoTEWA. No, no! I cannot let you go. 

Nampeyo. Hotewa! 

HoTEWA. . (Helplessly.) But what can I do? I am no 
chief. I am not even rich like — Tanto. 

Nampeyo. They say today you are to lead the Flute 
Dance. Today all Oraibi looks to you. 

HoTEWA. Your father has promised Tanto, 

Nampeyo. (Slowly.) And as he promises, so must it be. 
And yet — I wonder. 

HoTEWA. (Quickly.) What? 

Nampeyo. Listen, Hotewa. You know away far off across 
the desert — 

Hotewa. Yes. 

Nampeyo. Where the big river runs between the hills? 

Hotewa. Yes? 

Nampeyo. There live our blood brothers, the Tehuas. 

Hotewa. Yes. 

Nampeyo. Hotewa, my brave one, can ive not go there? 

Hotewa. Yes, strong-hearted; yes, that is the way. 
(Clasps her to him.) 

Nampeyo. We will forget all else but you and me. 

Hotewa. Remember, it is a long journey, Nampeyo. 

Nampeyo. We are strong. 

Hotewa. The way is rough, even for men. 

Nampeyo. What! Think you I am a weakling? 

Hotewa. (Looking at her.) Ah, no, Sipala. Who should 
know better than I your strength of limb and body? 

Nampeyo. Do you remember that day when you and I 
traveled across the desert to Dokoslid's top and back, between 
the rising and the setting of the sun? 

Hotewa. Do you think I could forget it? 

Nampeyo. Then say no more of the hardness of the 
journey. Even tho I am a woman I am strong. Why should 
ive fear the desert? 

Hotewa. With such spirit we could conquer an hundred 
deserts. 



THE GODS ARE GOOD 31 

Nampeyo. And if the ceremony is to begin today we must 
not wait. Take your bow, and I will take my beads. We can 
buy corn with them until you can grow some of our own. 

HoTEWA. Yes, soon we shall grow some of our very own. 
And we will build a house to live in. 

Nampeyo. A house of stone. 

HoTEWA. Just like — 

Nampeyo. Yes? 

HoTEWA. (Slowly.) Just like the dear old houses of 
Oraibi. 

Nampeyo. (Musingly.) Where we grew up thru all that 
happy playtime. 

HoTEWA. Where little Hotewa learned to love little Nam- 
peyo. 

Nampeyo. Yes, Hotewa, we have grown up to it thru all 
these happy years. Haven't we? 

Hotewa. (Thotfully.) Dear old Oraibi! How many 
times its ancient walls have listened to the loves of Hopi 
youths and maidens! 

Nampeyo. It is where our fathers lived — and died. 

Hotewa. Where they worshipped the Gods of old. Listen! 
In the Kiva they are chanting. 

(They are silent as the faint sound of the chant is heard 
proceeding from, the Kiva.) 

Oh, Nampeyo, for you I would brave a thousand deserts. 
For you I — and yet, beloved, somehow — oh, forgive me. 

Nampeyo. What is it? 

Hotewa. The tribe! They have chosen me to lead the 
Flute Dance. 

Nampeyo. Many others could lead the dance. 

Hotewa. I alone know the secret rites. The tribe looks 
to me today to bring the rain. 

Nampeyo. Can we not wait until the dance is done? 

Hotewa. No, for then the ceremony will begin. Besides 
they will be watching. We could not get away. Oh, Nampeyo, 
is there no other way? 

Nampeyo. (Slowly and sadly — looking steadily at him.) 
No, Hotewa, — no other way! It is — that — or — TAN TO. 



32 THE GODS ARE GOOD 

HoTEWA. (Startled at the name.) Then go we shall! 
Today! Before the dance it must be. Once the ceremony is 
begun there is no turning back. Before the sun is set we 
must be far away. 

Nampeyo. On the trail to the Tehuas! 

HoTEWA. To the Tehuas. Listen, Nampeyo! You must 
stay until after the dance begins. Then you can slip away 
unnoticed, because they will not miss you while the dance is 
on. Meanwhile I will make ready and go at once to the spot 
where the trail enters the shadow of Dokoslid. They will 
miss me, I know, but once gone they will never find Hotewa. 
Be strong, little one, and we shall meet again. Go now and 
make ready. 

Nampeyo. And you? 

Hotewa. I will make ready, too. And in the Kiva I will 
make a Baho to plant at the spring as a prayer that the 
Katchinas may forgive us, and send rain to the Hopituh. Oh, 
my peach bloom, — Sipala of my heart! 

(They press close a moment. Then, as Hotewa starts to 
descend the ladder. Nampeyo leans forward and kisses his 
forehead.) 

Nampeyo. To meet again under Dokoslid. 

(Nampeyo starts to go. He watches her until she has 
disappeared in her father's doorway. There is a pause for a 
moment as Hotewa holds the pose.) 

MooA. (Outside.) I tell you if the rain doesn't come we 
shall all die. 

Tawase. (Outside.) Put another Baho at the spring, 
Mooa. Surely the Gods will send rain before we all die. 

MooA. (Outside.) I begin to fear that the Gods have for- 
gotten us. 

(Terrible sobbing heard in doorway next to Mooa's house 
where Matase lives.) 

Matase. (Outside.) Ai — ee, ai — ee! (Then a scream and 
a voice crying.) My baby, my baby. Dead! Oh Patau, God 
of the Hopituh, is my baby dead? (Enter Matase from her 
doorway, sobbing and crying, carrying body of baby, her hair 
flying down her back. She does not see Hotewa. Holds out 
body, then sinks down sobbing, and covering it with kisses.) 



THE GODS ARE GOOD 33 

Oh, my baby, my baby! Come back baby, oh come back. 
(Rocks it, singing Hopi luUahy.) Pu-va, Pu-va. Oh! Dead! 
(Throws hack her hair, showing staring eyes and face red 
with tears.) Ha, ha, ha! (Hysterical laughter, then gasping 
sobs.) Oh, my baby. (Rocks it and holds it close.) . Come 
back to me. Come back! — No, NO! It is better so, if the rain 
comes not we shall all die. (Tenderly.) Better now! Bet- 
ter now! (Hotewa is deeply affected.) Yes, little one, sleep, 
sleep. (Sings Hopi lullahy.) Today they dance the Flute 
Dance; then perhaps the rain will come. Oh, why could you 
not have lived till then, my baby? (Bhe staggers to her feet, 
holding the body closely. Reels and starts to fall but is saved 
by Hotewa who jumps out and catches her.) 

HoTEWA. There, Matase, be quiet. The little one is not 
thirsty now. 

(Matase bursts into sobs.) 

Matase. Hotewa! Hotewa. Dance the Flute Dance well 
today. We look to you to save us. You! You! No one else 
can save the tribe of the Hopituh. 

(Hotewa is silent. He takes the hysterical Matase into 
her house. Comes out again and starts towaul Kiva.) 

(Enter Cocheiva, Ahtowan, and Dokoya.) 

Ahtowan. Why, Hotewa! Why aren't you in the Kiva 
getting ready for the dance? 

Hotewa. I am going there now, but other things have 
kept me. 

Ahtowan. What others, Hotewa? What is more import- 
ant today than the Flute Dance? 

Hotewa. (Reluctantly.) The baby of Matase is dead. 

Cochewa. (Slowly, hardly comprehending.) Dead? Ma- 
tase's baby? 

Hotewa. Yes, she is in there with it now. 

Cochewa. Woe, woe to the Hopituh. When the children 
die then the tribe dies. Hotewa, my son, you must lead the 
dance well today. (Hotewa does not speak, but looks away.) 
Yes, my boy, you must lead it so well that the Katchinas on 
the sacred mountain will hear our prayer for rain. (Totters 
to dooruay.) Matase, Matase, my daughter. 



34 THE GODS ARE GOOD 

(Exit Cochewa thru Matase's doorway. Sohs heard within.) 

Ahtowan. It was her only one — the last of its clan. If 
no others come to her then the line of Cochewa will be no 
more. 

DoKOYA. May the Gods grant her many! 

Ahtowax. (Going on with thot.) But if the rain doesn't 
come soon, the whole trihe of the Hopituh will be only a des- 
ert memory. Hotewa, you are the man. Today we shall 
watch you in the dance as you pray with the sacred flute for 
the people of peace. (To others.) Come, let us leave him to 
make ready. 

(Exit all but Hotetoa. He sits on bench, head on hands. 
Looks up.) 

Hotewa. (Aghast.) To me? Hotewa? The tribe looks 
to me today. (Hand to forehead.) I can't think. Oh Nam- 
peyo! my Nampeyo! What shall I do? (Flute melody heard, 
soft and plaintive.) Listen, the sacred flute. (Walks slowly 
toward Kiva.) On the altar of my fathers I will ask for help. 
(Sloioly descends ladder as flute keeps playing.) 

CURTAIN 

End of Scene I 

Quick change of scenery as arranged so that curtain rises on 
Scene II very shortly. 



ACT 1. SCENE II. 



THE KIVA 



(As curtain rises Kiva is very dark — light comes in only 
from opening in roof where the ladder leads out. In one cor- 
ner is a little fire and around it sit three priests, naked hut 
for their breech cloths. One is playing on a Hopi flute, while 
another softly beats a drum. HOTEWA ENTERS ABOVE 
AND SLOWLY DESCENDS THE LADDER. Thruout the 
scene the flute melody keeps going, now soft, noio loud, and a 
low chant at intervals. At the foot of the ladder Hotewa looks 
around him, then goes to other end of Kiva where the wall is 




AT THE ENTRANCE TO THE KIVA 



THE GODS ARE GOOD 6o 

covered ivith a fantastic painting. Here Tie kneels on the 
ground. (Not especially before the picture, hut merely in the 
attitude of reverence.) For a while he does not speak. Then 
as the chant is heard he begins.) 

HoTEWA. God of my fathers! Father of the Hopi people! 
Oh, leader of thy people, guide me aright this day. Help me 
to choose. (Flute grows louder.) Oh, ruler of the thunder 
and father of men, give me a sign. It is a sign I pray for. 
Send me some sign to point me on my way. 

(Stage suddenly darkens entirely. Flute and chant are 
silent. Then sloicly in the back the vision appears of Nam- 
peyo sitting with an unfinished basket beside her. In her 
arms is a baby to which she is singing. She sings the Natoma 
lullaby. Meanwhile Hotewa starts up with his arms out- 
stretched. She looks at him and smiles, and then the vision 
slowly fades.) 

HoTEWA. Is this a dream or can it be true? Nampeyo! 
Oh, Nampeyo, is this the sign from the Gods. Dream of my 
heart, my dear one, I will go! I will make ready and hasten 
to Dokoslid. (Rubs eyes.) What is this? 

(Another vision appears. People starving. The men 
stagger along, thirst is killing them. Hotewa buries his face 
in his hands to keep from seeing the horrible sight. Others 
walk in. Two men fight for a cup of d.rty water. One sinks 
down, too weak to struggle. An old man is seen stretching his 
hands up to heaven.) 

Oh, father of the Hopituh, giver of the rain, is this my 
sign? 

(Old man falls over dead.) 

Nampeyo, Nampeyo, come back to me. (Hides face in 
hands.) Oh, my Nc.mpeyo, must I give you up — and to himf 
No, I will not. 

(Looks again at vision. The flute begins to play again. 
He listens.) 

The flute of the Gods. Are they looking to me today to 
save the tribe from — this? I cannot go. I cannot leave in 
this time of need. God of my fathers, I accept your sign. 
Today / shall lead the ancient Flute Dance. Today I give 
myself to save the tribe. 



36 THE GODS ARE GOOD 

(The vision slowly fades out, and in the Kiva the priests 
chant softly as the curtain slowly descends and hides Hotewa 
as he kneels upon the ground looking toward tvhere the vision 
had heen.) 



CURTAIN 

End of Scene II. 

End of Act I. 



ACT II. 



-WITH FLUTES THEY PRAY TO THE RAING0D8' 



37 



ACT II. SCENE I. 



THE PUEBLO 

(Curtain discloses Puehlo as in Act I, Scene I. Dokoya 
sits on 'bench of house. People seated about him on ground 
laugh as curtain rises.) 

Dokoya. Yes, that's how the fox got his bushy tail. 

SoYOMi. He was brave. I tell you, I like to hear how he 
fixed his wife. 

Ahwante. Like you fix yours, eh? 

(Others all laugh.) 

SoYOMi, Well, you don't have to remind me of it, do you? 

YowYTEWA. Tell us another story, Dokoya. 

Others. Yes, tell us another. 

NoTAWA. Tell us about Le-lang-uh. 

Dokoya. How many times I have told the tale to you! 

People. Tell us again. Tell us again! 

Ahwante. Today they dance the Flute Dance. Tell us of 
Le-lang-uh. 

Dokoya. It is a long tale. Longer than the one about 
the fox. How well you know the story! 

People. Tell us anyway. Tell us. 

Dokoya. Of Le-lang-uh it shall be then. (Changes de- 
meanor and gestures for silence.) Aliksai! In Oraibi the 
people were living. And it was many plantings ago — before 
even all our clans had come to us. And there came one day 
a man to Oraibi, at a time of great drought, when all the 
people were dying of thirst. 

Woman. Even as now we thirst. 

Dokoya. Aye, even as now. He was tall, this man, and 
his skin was as white as the rocks of Weepo. The people 
treated him kindly. They gave him a house to live in and 
part of their last corn to eat, because they thot he was a God 
—perhaps a Katchina come to live in Oraibi. But he said not 
a word of who he was. 

YowYTEWA. Who was he? 

Dokoya. Have patience. For two years no rain had come 

38 



THE GODS ARE GOOD 39 

and many Hopis died. And the spring ivas dry. (This last 
very slowly.) 

People. (With horror.) Oh! The spring dry! 

DoKOYA. There was no water in all Tusayan. Then one 
day the strange man said: "Do you believe in the Gods?" 
And the people answered, "Yes!" Then he said: "If you want 
rain, do as I tell you." So he went to his house and got a 
flute — such as Tusayan had never seen before — the sacred 
hlue flute of the Gods. 

NoTAWA. The one Hotewa is to play today! 

DoKOYA. The very one. "Make you flutes like this," the 
stranger said to the old men, and they did. Then he said, 
"Come with me!" So the men took the flutes they had made 
and dressed as he dressed and followed him down the trail. 
But when they came to the spring he stopped, and there he 
taught them to play the flutes — taught them the sacred music 
that will call the Gods. But to Sa-to-be-ah he taught the 
secret words of the Lelentiwa — the holy, secret, prayers. 
"Keep these words in your heart," said he to Sa-to-be-ah, "and 
forget them not. But teach them to your son and let them 
be taught to his son and unto his in turn, so they be never 
forgot in Tusaj'an." 

YowYTEWA. Who speaks them today? 

DoKOYA. Hotewa. When Cochewa had no son he took 
Hotewa and taught him all he knew, so that today he is to 
lead the dance. 

lowANO. But what of the stranger? 

DoKOYA. Aliksai! "I am Le-lang-uh," he said when he 
had taught them the sacred songs and secrets. "And I come 
from the sunrise by the big waters of the ocean." 

PEorLE. Oh! The ocean! 

DoKOYA. "Do as I do and you shall have rain," said he. 
So they all did as he did and danced the dance of flutes until 
the clouds came and the rain poured over the desert. 

Ahwante. But what about Le-lang-uh? 

DoKOYA. Aliksai! Into the clouds he went, and no one 
has ever seen him since, save Oh-ti-o-ma, who said he saw him 
dancing with the Katchinas on the sacred peaks. And ever 
since then the Hopis have danced the Flute Dance to pray 



40 THE GODS ARE GOOD 

the Gods for rain, and the sacred flute has always been handed 
down from father to son. Aliksai! 

(He holds up his hands as a signal that he is finished.) 

Ahwante. Today Cochewa gives it to Hotewa. 

YowYTEWA. And with it the secrets. 

Ahwante. The secrets of the sacred flute. 

SoYOMi. I like the fox story better. 

Yowytewa. Why? 

SoYOMi. Because he gets even with his wife. 

Yowytewa. Why don't you do that, too? 

SoYOMi. (Decidedly.) I'm going to. I'm going to do it 
right now. I'm going to fix her right. 

(Exit Soyomi bravely.) 

Ahtowan. Soyomi's always heedless in time of danger. 

(Others laugh. People are getting up to leave when Ma- 
tase j'ushes in with half filled water jar.) 

Matase. The spring! (Falls on face in front of people 
who crowd around.) The spring is dry. 

(People all exclaim.) 

Dry! (A scream.) Oh, my baby. I will be with you soon. 
The spring is dry. 

(Cochewa totters in.) 

Cochewa. What is it? 

Ahtowan. She says the spring is dry. 

Cochewa. (Bending over Matase.) Matase, my daughter, 
tell me. 

Matase. Dry! We shall all die soon. 

(People shoic feeling.) 

Cochewa. Woe to the Hopituh! Not while I have lived 
has the spring done dry. Where is Hotewa? 

Ahtowan. In the Kiva. 

Cochewa. Tell him the life of Tusayan is in his hands. 
He alone can save us. 

(Tatvase rushes in.) 

Tawase. The spring is dry. Come and see. 

(Excited people rush off after her. Cochewa stays and 
helps Matase to her house. He then starts out after them when 
Nampeyo enters above and calls to him.) 

Nampeyo. Cochewa. 

(He stops and she comes down ladder.) 



THE GODS ARE GOOD 



41 



CocHEWA. What is it my child? 

Nampeyo. Oh, Cochewa, I must talk to someone. You 
have always been my friend. 

Cochewa. Who is there who is not a friend of Nampeyo? 
And who could blame her for feeling sad? 
Nampeyo. You know, then? 
Yes. 

Oh, but I ivon't marry Tanto. I can't. 
It's hard, I know. 

No, I can't, I won't. I shall marry Hotewa. 
Hush, my child. 
Yes, I tvill marry Hotewa. 
I know you love Hotewa. But it is promised. 



Cochewa. 

Nampeyo. 

Cochewa. 

Nampeyo. 

Cochewa. 

Nampeyo. 

Cochewa. 
The Gods— 

Nampeyo. 
ing away. 

Cochewa. 

Nampeyo. 

Cochewa. 

Nampeyo. 



/ promised no one. No, I shall not. I am go- 



Where? 

We are going — Hotewa and I. 

And leave the tribe — to — die? 

We are going to the Tehuas. 
me on the trail. You are the only one I can tell, Cochewa. 
You are Hotewa's father. You can understand. 

Yes, I think perhaps I can under- 



He is to meet 



Cochewa. 
stand. 

Nampeyo. 

Cochewa. 

Nampeyo. 
father for me. 



(Slowly.) 

Do you? 

(Slowly.) 



I, too, was young once — long ago. 
Then you know. Oh, tell good bye to my 
(Bitterly.) He has driven me away. 

(Exit Nampeyo, center.) 

Cochewa. (Looking after her.) Going away — you and 
Hotewa. Yes, I was young once. I know the fire of youth, 
but oh, Gods that my fathers worshipped, hear me. Take my 
son, Hotewa, and lead him aright. Make him to see the way. 
Guide him who this day must save the trihe from death. 

(As Cochewa says this, Hotewa comes from Kiva. Sees 
Cochewa, runs to him, and kneels before him.) 

Hotewa. Father, forgive me. 

Cochewa. (Turning.) My son! 

Hotewa, All that you taught me I would have thrown 
away. 



42 THE GODS ARE GOOD 

CocHEWA. (Raising him tenderly.) Tell me, Hotewa. 

HoTEWA. But I have seen the vision sent from the Gods. 
I have seen the way. 

CocHEWA, May the Gods be praised! Speak, my son, tell 
me. 

Hotewa. Wretch, I am! I would have thrown all away. 

CocHEWA. I think I know. It was Nampeyo. 

HoTEWA. (Nods.) She and I were going to run away. 
Going to leave everything, and trust to getting safely across 
the desert. I would have done it. But now — oh, father, can 
I stay and see her married to Tanto? 

CocHEWA. (Slowly.) You must, my son. 

Hotewa. I must? I will. 

CocHEWA. A man has come to Tusayan. The Gods have 
answered my prayer. 

Hotewa. As they always do, father. (Pause.) But how 
can I see her mar — 

CocHEWA. (Interrupting.) My son, if you can save the 
tribe, what matters it whether you save your life or lose it, 
whether you gain your will or lose it? You are the only one 
who can play this day the sacred flute of the Gods. I played 
it many times but my lips are parched and old. You alone can 
lead the priests of the Lenya. You alone know the secrets of 
the Blue Flute Clan. Go, Hotewa, and make ready. The Gods 
will not forget. 

(Hotewa, a smile of victory on his face, starts toward 
Kiva. Turns and looks hack toivard Gocheica.) 

Surely Those Above are gracious to me, an old man. I 
have not long to live. May my son lead well the sacred dance. 

(Hotewa exits to Kiva. Cochewa watches him and then 
totters off left. Noise heard in house and Soyomi enters run- 
ning, with Watohe after him, brandishing pestle.) 

Watobe, Hi, you, Soyomi! Come here. 

(Soyomi keeps on running.) 

You'll argue with me, will you? 

Soyomi. (Over his shoulder.) I'm not arguing. 

Watobe. I'll show you. You come here. (Soyomi keeps 
on going. Exit on other side of stage. Watohe runs out after 
him.) Come and grind your corn. 

(Noise outside,) 



THE GODS ARE GOOD 43 

SoYOMi. (Outside.) Ouch! Ouch! I say! Oh, my head! 

Watobe. (Outside.) (Ironically.) Your head! You come 
here with me now. (Enters leading Soyomi hy ear.) Til 
teach you to contradict me. Take that — and that — and that. 
(Hits him.) 

SoYOMi. Ouch! Oh, I'm killed! I'm killed! 

Watobe. No, you aren't. But you'll wish you ivere. — 
Come along now. 

(He sneaks away as she goes around corner of house. 
Starts to run hut trips over bench and falls spraivling on the 
ground. Watobe goes after him.) 

SoYOMi. Woe is me! Ai — ee! Ai — ee! Eternal torment! 

Watobe. Eternal torment, eh? So that's how you appre- 
ciate me, is it? (Begins to cry.) Boo, hoo! Here I've slaved 
for you, and worked for you, and watched over you all these 
years. 

(Soyorni rises and goes to her. She has meanwhile seated 
herself on the bench before the house. As she utters the last 
three words, rocking to and fro on the bench, Soyomi turns 
toward audience.) 

SoYOMi. Boo, hoo! All these years. 

(But he really is touched and sits beside her. his arm 
around her, and both rock back and forth crying in unison.) 

Watobe. Boo, hoo! Here I've been a burden to you. 

SoYOMi. No, you haven't. You're just the dearest, nicest, 
finest little woman in — 

Watobe. No, I'm not. Boo, hoo! 

SoYOMi. Yes, you are! 

Watobe. I'm not! 

SoYOMi. You are! 

Watobe. I'm not! 

SoYOMi. You are! 

Watobe. I'm not. I won't have you contradict me. I'll — 
I'll — you come home with me now. 

(Grabs poor Soyomi by ear and leads him off. As they 
go off Soyomi turns toivard audience.) 

SoYOMi. I take it all back. 

(Flute priest comes in playing softly. Stands by Kiva 
opening. Chant heard from below. Priest whirls Bull Roarer 
and Mooa appears at opening.) 



44 THE GODS ARE GOOD 

Flute Priest. (Solemnly.) The time is come. 

MooA. Aliksai! It is well. 

Flute Priest. Already the shadow of Dokoslid touches 
the trail to Sityatki. It is the hour to call the people. 

MooA. I am ready. (Throws a little cornmeal and some 
white confetti into air. Both watch it intently as it falls.) 
The signs are good. 

(Mooa starts to climh ladder. Hoteioa enters from Kiva 
partly clad for the dance. As he nears center exit, Nampeyo 
enters there. She sees him — starts back. Then sloivly speaks.) 

Nampeyo. Hotewa! (He turns away.) Hotewa! Why 
are you here? Why not at Dokoslid? (No answer.) Why not 
at Dokoslid? 

Hotewa. (Slowly.) The Gods have stayed me. 

Nampeyo. (Putting out her hand.) Aren't you going? 

Hotewa. I cannot. 

Nampeyo. Why not? 

Hotewa. I must stay. 

Nampeyo. Why? 

Hotewa. Because the Gods command it. Because I can- 
not leave the tribe. I am the only one, Nampeyo,. If I stay 
we may have life. If I go, death will surely come to all. 

Nampeyo. But me! Have you forgotten me? 

Hotewa. (Passionately.) Nampeyo! 

Nampeyo. Have you forgotten Tantof 

Hotewa. (Starts as if struck. Sloivly recovers, — hand to 
forehead. Then he takes Nampeyo's hand, leads her to right 
and points.) See the fields there where the corn is growing, 
and the melon vines are winding over the sand. See the Hopi 
fields, — how they stretch out over the desert land. Can I run 
away from these? 

(Turns and points hack at Puehlo.) 

See the children playing by the doorway and the people 
in the houses. Can I forsake them? Must they all die like 
Matase's baby? 

(The chant is heard from the Kiva.) 

Listen, — the priests of the sacred flute are chanting in 
the Kiva. Can I leave them, I — the only one who knows the 
ancient words? Nampeyo, the Gods have spoken. I must stay. 

Nampeyo. (Slowly turning to him, clasping his hands in 



THE GODS ARE GOOD 45 

Jier's, and speaking in a low voice.) Yes, Hotewa, you must. 
(Suddenly sohs, throtos her arms about his neck, and leans on 
him.) Oh, I see it all now, how selfish I've been, — how ter- 
ribly selfish. I wanted you — wanted you for my own — and I 
couldn't see. I couldn't understand. 

Hotewa. But you do now? 

Nampeyo. Yes, my Hotewa, I do. 

MooA. (From above, beginning his call.) Hear ye — people 
of Oraibi. The hour is come. 

Hotewa. (Looking up.) It is Mooa. 

MooA. Hear ye! They are to dance the Dance of Flutes. 

(Enter Cochewa, Ahtoivan, Tewani, and several others.) 

Hotewa. I must go. 

MooA. With flutes they pray to the Rain Gods. 

(Enter Tanto, young men, and Nikano.) 

Hotewa. Good bye! (Still clinging to one of her hands.) 

Nampeyo. Good bye! (Pause, then quickly adds.) May 
the Gods watch over you, — for — ever. (Drops his hand.) 

(Tanto watches them, and haughtily draws back as Ho- 
tewa comes by.) 

Tanto. (To others.) Make way for the flute priest. (Ho- 
tewa stops and looks at him.) Let him pass. Back! 

Hotewa. (Quietly.) Haven't you mocked me enough, 
Tanto, without adding this'^ 

Tanto. Ha, ha! With all your scheming I have beat you, 

Hotewa. (Strongly.) Tanto! 

Tanto. Ha, ha! 

MooA. Come to the sacred dance. Ai — ee — ee! 

Tanto. (Contemptuously.) He calls you to come, rain- 
bring er. 

Hotewa. (Slowly and quietly, yet passionately.) Lolomi! 
You shall have cause, Tanto, to call me that. 

(Exit to Kiva.) 

Mooa. The hour is come. 

(People meanwhile have gathered on the stage. Some sit 
on edge of roofs. Cochewa starts up ladder.) 

Cochewa. Help me, Mooa, I am getting old. I can't climb 
these ladders as I used to. 

(Mooa helps him. When he gets on top he looks around 
him.) 

No cloud. No sign of rain from heaven. 



46 THE GODS ARE GOOD 

(Mooa climbs down and goes to Kiva. Pause, then a priest 
appears, center — the crowd respectfully stands back as he 
comes slowly forivard. He walks to the mouth of the Kiva. 
Swings Bull Roarer. A priest appears in Kiva opening.) 

Kiva Priest. Who are you? 

Other Priest. A stranger. 

Kiva Priest. Whence come you? 

Other Priest. From far away. 

Kiva Priest. What errand brings you? 

Other Priest. I call the dance of Le-lang-uh. Are yoii 
ready, Priest of Oraibi? 

Kiva Priest. We are ready. 

Other Priest. Then call the priests of the Lenya. 

(Kiva priest raises hand for silence to people, and chant I 
is heard very low m Kiva. The two priests stand side by side 
near Kiva. Both start to play flutes. All the priests except 
Hotetva sloioly file out of Kiva, chanting lotv. Man with asper- 
gill leads sloio march around stage.) 

NiKANO. They come to dance. Come, Tanto, let us u^atch 
them. 

(Nikano climbs to first roof, followed by Tanto. The 
priests stand in line near the wall. Three with flutes. The 
first tiDO start Chant II as other is finished and strangely 
accent it by stamping with one foot. Girl's chorus of eight 
file in and line up facing the men. Chant — to tune of ''Aooah" 
by Lieurance — Flute Maidens and Flute Priests. Girls singing 
first tivo lines of each stanza alone.) 

God of our fathers 
Do not forget. 

Hear us; save us; 

Send us the rain. 

With flute and song ; 

We call upon Thee. 

Hear us; save us; 

Send us the rain. 

Spread Thy white clouds 
Over all Tusayan. 

Hear us; save us; 

Send us the rain. 



THE GODS ARE GOOD 47 

For we are faithful 
To Thy commands. 

Hear us; save us; 

Send us the rain. 

Hear us and save us, 
Send us the rain of life. 

Heed Thou Thy people — 
Praying to Thee. 

(Then comes the slow figure inarch of the Flute Dance. 
One leads draicing cloud figures of corn meal ahead of the 
company as they march along. This is a very slotv, weird, 
ceremony.) 

NiKANO. No clouds answer them. 

CocHEWA. No clouds! 

(All priests and dancers make circuit of stage stamping 
on hollow place and chariting. Hotewa appears at Kiva open- 
ing.) 

People. (As Hotewa appears.) It is Hotewa. 

(He has a blue flute in his hand, decorated with a bright 
colored string. He is dressed somewhat more elaborately 
than the others. The man with the aspergill sprinkles holy 
water to the six directions, and a flute sounds as he crosses 
stage.) 

Cochewa. No cloud yet. 

NiKANO. See! They blow their flutes to no avail. 

(Chant I again, all sivaying bodies in time and accom- 
panied with flutes and tom-toms. Nikano remarks once in a 
while, and Cocheiva also. Chant begins faster now, — Chant 
III.) 

Cochewa. There is no cloud. Gods of the Hopituh, heed 
our prayer for rain. 

NiKANO. Call louder, your Gods are asleep. 

Tanto. Or dead. Call louder. 

Tewani. Has Tanto joined the mockers? 

NiKANo. Aye, Tanto is a wise man. Where is the rain? 
Where are your Gods now? 

Cochewa. Blasphemer, would you condemn us to die? 

Tanto. Yes, if our time has come. 



48 THE GODS ARE GOOD 

(A few speeches hack and forth in similar vein at each 
hill in the dance. The man with the aspergill sprinkles the 
holy water. Hoteioa throws white confetti into the air — 
watches it fall — then hegins odd chant alone, accompanied by 
chorus of ''Ho, ho, ho, ho!) 

HoTEWA. (Down upon his knees.) 

Oh thou of the thunder — 
Thou of the Rain Clouds, 
Thou, the white-towering, 

Father and guide of men, 
Why have you forgotten? 
Why have you not sent us rain? 
Have you not heard our prayers? 
Have you not heard our chants? 
Oh, thou of the lightning — 
Thou — mighty life-giver, 
Hear us; save us; 
Send us the rain. 
Flute Priests — Tune of Chant lY. 
Ho-ya-ha! Ho-ya-ho! 

Hear us. 
Ho-ya-ha! Ho-ya-ho! 
Hear us. 
(Stretch out hands to Hotewa.) 
Call upon the Gods, 
With the secret words, 
That they may hear us — 
That they may save. — 
HoTEWA. Hear ye — cloud-dwellers. Hearken and heed. 
People. The secret words. — 

HoTEWA. (Sings strange, tvild, chant, ivith fantastic 
ivords accompanied by tom-tom, flutes and soft ''Ha ha, ha, 
ha,'' by priests and maidens.) 

People. The words of Le-lang-uh! 
Hotewa. 

Oh, Ruler of the Thunder! 

Oh, Leader of Men! 

In the holy Kiva have I chanted 

the chants of old. 
In the holy Kiva have I chanted 

the secret words. 
In the holy Kiva have I repeated 



THE GODS ARE GOOD 49 

the words of Le-lang-uh. 
V/here, then, are the rain-clouds, — 
Where the water-bearers of life? 
Will you not hear us, — 
Will you not heed our call? 
Priests — Tune of Chant IV. 

Ho-ya-ha ! Ko-ya-ho ! 

Hear us. 
Ho-ya-ha! Ho-ya-ho! 

Hear us. 
Hearken and hear us as v/e pray. 
Hearken and hear us ere we die. 
(A strange change comes over the dancers. Orchestra 
hegins ''Dagger Dance" from ''Natoma." Hotewa is on 
his knees with his face upon the ground. Three flute priests 
and the drummer stand hy the side of the house. The dance 
goes on — wilder and wilder. The ''Hoya! Hoy a!'' shout is 
heard at intervals as the dancers circle about the prostrate 
Hotewa. As the dance reaches its final climax all sing a 
chant together and people all join in final chords. Grand final 
pose at end of chorus, ending with the words, ''Heed our 
prayer, send us the rain.'' Even the scoffers are silent at this 
impressive time. — Cochewa extends his hands to heaven.) 

CocHEWA. Gods of my fathers. Hearken and hear! Oh! 
(Cry of distress. Totters and falls. Confusion on stage. Men 
carry Cocheiva doivn, Nikano helping, and as curtain falls 
they take him down into the Kiva.) 
CURTAIN 



ACT 11 . SCE NE II. 

THE KIYA 

(Curtain discloses Nikano, Ahtowan, and several men hur- 
riedly carrying the unconscious Cochewa down the ladder. 
Hotewa comes down ladder afterward, followed by other flute 
priests. He bends over Cocheiva.) 

Hotewa. Cochewa! Come Cochewa! Wake again. You 
were like a father to me when my own was dead. Cochewa, 
(Kneels beside him, lifts his head.) Come, father, wake again. 

(Cochewa opens his eyes and looks about him, sees Ho- 
tewa.) 



50 THE GODS ARE GOOD 

CocHEWA. (Very weak.) Hotewa, my son, my son, bend 
over me. Tell me good bye and let me die in peace. 

Hotewa. No, you are strong yet. You must not die. 

CocHEWA. It is better so. I have lived long in the land 
of Tusayan. 

Hotewa. But, father, you can live longer still. 

CocHEWA. No, Hotewa. Oh, my son, I have cared for you 
as my own since your father and mother left you for the land 
of Those Above. (Pause.) Hotewa, be true to the trust I leave 
you. Hold fast to the Gods of your fathers, even as I, Co- 
chewa, have done. 

Hotewa. Yes, father. 

Cochewa. Today you showed your spirit. (Rouses up 
slightly.) 

Hotewa. (Soothing him.) There, there. 

Cochewa. (Quickly.). I know! I know how you gave up 
your loved one for the sake of the people. Oh, my son, Ho- 
tewa, perhaps you have lost her, but thru you the whole tribe 
shall live. 

Hotewa. (Rather bitterly.) If the rain comes. 

Cochewa. Do not fear, my son, for the Gods of the Hopi- 
tuh are good. Some time all will know what you did today, 
and the name of Hotewa will live forever. (Falls back on 
floor.) 

Ahtowan. (At one side.) Where are the Gods now? 

1st Man. They have gone away. 

2iSrD Man. Perhaps their power is gone. Perhaps they are 
dying of thirst, too. 

Ahtowan. What if there are no Gods? 

1st Man. There must be Gods. How could ive have got- 
ten here if there were none? 

2nd Man. There might have been Gods then, but now 
they must be dead. 

3rd Man. There was no sign of a cloud even. 

1st Man. No, not a single rain cloud for a year 

2nd Man. For a whole year the Gods have forgotten us. 

NiKANO. (Approaching, in firm tone.) There were none 
to forget. Today we toiled and labored in every way and yet 
no rain. If there were Gods we would have had rain long 
ago. I say — there are no Gods. 



THE GODS ARE GOOD 51 

Others. (Agreeing with him.) There are no Gods. 

(Cochewa lifts up on one elbow.) 

CocHEWA. (To Hotewa.) What are they saying? 

HoTEWA. They are talking about the rain. 

Cochewa. But what are they saying about the Gods? 

NiKANO. We say, there are no Gods. 

(Cochewa looks at him. sloioly comprehending.) 

Cochewa. No Gods? You — say — there are — no — Gods? 
(Slowly raises up, supported in part hy Hoteiva. Then with 
a sudden movement he throws off the great robe that covers 
him and staggers to the front with his hands stretched out 
above and in front of him.) No Gods! (Almost a scream.) 
Look! This morning I said that today the Hopituh should 
see the rain. Again I say it. Before this night the rain shall 
come and thus will the Gods show their love for the Hopituh. 
(To men.) Men of Oraibi, will you let this unbeliever turn 
you from the Gods of your fathers? Will you so soon forget 
their mercies? Nikano, you say there are no Gods. You say 
so — you who have most benefited by the gifts they sent us. 
Among our young men you have made your talk — you have 
tried to draw them from the way of their fathers. Even to 
the priests of the sacred flute, the Lenya of the Gods, you 
have spread your folly. (Murmurs among the men.) Listen, 
do not turn away. Do you remember Towasin, that other 
scoffer, whom the Gods killed when the thunder roared over 
Sit-yat-ki? (Anger increasing.) Tonight, Nikano, you shall 
remember him if you do not now. Are j^ou unafraid? Can 
you not feel the anger of the Gods upon you? Before tonight 
you shall. Before tonight you shall call on them for help as 
you wander, mad, thru old Oraibi. I see it! I see you seared 
by the lightnings of Towamo. I see your spirit wandering on 
the lonely trail that is your punishment, for the Gods shall 
show the people that they still live in Tusayan. 

(Duri7ig this speech the other men slowly and fearfully 
move away from Nikano, who is left standing alone.) 

Go now, and meditate on the will of heaven. (Turns away 
from Nikano, who silently moves out of sight. The light of 
prophecy comes over the old man's face. He looks far cway, 
but slowly sinks exhausted.) Ah! It is the rain! The — 
rain! See, the children are splashing in the pools and the 
women are dipping the water from the hollows of the rocks. 



52 THE GODS ARE GOOD 

What is one scoffer to this? I see the streams rushing down 
the water courses and the glad people drinking of the rain 
that falls upon the houses. 

HoTEWA. (Aside.) Would the Gods I could feel happy 
as he does! Even if the rain should come, I would have no joy. 

CocHEWA. (Turning to Hotewa.) Hotewa, my son, today 
you proved your faith in the Gods of old. Hold to that faith. 
Do not think of what you have lost but of what you have 
gained, for this day you have shown that your soul is white. 
(He sinks down exhausted.) 

Hotewa. (Bitterly aside.) Gone! Everything I loved is 
gone! 

(Cochewa is torn with convulsions. Tries to speak hut 
cannot. They bend over him. He sinks hack and all think he 
is dead.) 

Ahtowan. Is he dead? 

1st Man. No, he still breathes. 

(Cochewa again opens his eyes and looks up, a smile on 
his face.) 

Cochewa. The rain, the rain! I see it coming. (Meti 
look away. All are incredulous.) Listen. What was that 
sound? (All listen. As they do so a very distant peal of 
thunder is heard. Cochewa does not hear it. He has hecome 
unconscious again. The men grow excited. Then comes a 
distant shout. ''The rainT and then another nearer, ''The 
rainr Then suddenly the patter of rain is heard on the roof, 
and a few drops come thru the doorway in the roof. The men 
are sohhing with joy. Then a few drops touch Cochewa on 
the face. He opens his eyes and raises up slightly, supported 
hy Hotewa.) 

Cochewa. The rain! The rain from heaven. Oh Gods of 
the Hopituh, I die in peace. 

(Falls hack dead. Shouting grows louder outside. All 
except Hotewa rush out sohhing, and glad shouts are heard 
from men and women outside. In the Kiva Hotewa tenderly 
covers Cochewa with the hlanket — then slowly goes to altar 
and hends hefore it. As the curtain descends the low flute 
melody of the prayer for rain is heard.) 

CURTAIN 
End of Act II. 



ACT III. 



*'THE WATER THAT IS LIFE' 



53 



ACT. 111. 



THE PUEBLO 

Evening is coming on. Remains of debris from dance 
scattered about. In front of Soyomi's house a fire has been 
built. Every little while the rain is heard and a little distant 
thunder now and then. Soyomi discovered bending over fire 
trying to make it burn. 

Soyomi (Looking up and talking to self as he works 
around fixing the fire under the edge of the eaves.) Well, the 
rain has come — tra-la-la — (Sings in a cracked voice. Blows 
fire comically, still trying to sing and not accomplishing either 
very ivell.) I ought to have made my wife do this. (Pause.) 
Only a few left. (Holds up an ear of corn.) But the rain's 
here and we'll live somehow. (Sings.) — 

For who shall starve or die of thirst? 
With water in the spring we'll eat enough to burst. 
Tra-la-la Tra-la-la 
(la-la) (la-la) 
We'll live on cactus and sage brush fine, 
On peach tree blossoms and on To-to vine. 
Tra-la-la Tra-la-la 
(la-la) 
For the rain has come and the thunder too, 
And the dancers feast on the ripe corn blue. 
Tra-la-la Tra-la-la 
(tra-la) (la-la) 
0-which-ee-ah-hai-pa, 0-which-ee-ah-wu. 
So come and join in the jolly song. 
Yes, we'll laugh and sing the whole night long. 
Tra-la-la. 
(Song dies out because singer is out of breath. Blous 
fire again, smoke blinds him — coughs and rubs eyes.) 
(Enter Ahtowan.) 
Ahtowan. Where is Hotewa? 
Soyomi Hotewa? 
Ahtowan. Yes, Hotewa. 

54 



THE GODS ARE GOOD 55 

SoYOMi. Ah-tchoo — (sneeze.) How should I know? I 
don't keep track of Hotewa. Fm trouble enough to myself. 

(Ahtoivan crosses to Kiva and looks down.) 

Ahtowan. With his head on the old man's body. (Pause 
as Soyomi hums away at his work.) Poor Hotewa. How bit- 
ter the death of Cochewa is to nim. (Moves quietly away.) 

(Enter lowano. Ahiuante, Yowytetva, and others, laughing 
and talking.) 

lowANO. Where is Hotewa? 

Others. Yes, Hotewa — Rainhringer! 

Ahtowan. Be qu^'et. He is praying in the Kiva, beside 
his foster father, Cochewa. Leave him alone in his grief. 

(The company suddenly quiets dotvn and starts out.) 

Ahwante. Shall he not feast with us tonight? 

Ahtowan. Another time! Do not disturb him now. 

(They go out lower left. Shouting and laughter heard 
outside when they nave gone.) 

SoYOMi. Hotewa's a great man now, I guess. 

Ahtowan. Since the rain has come. 

SoYOMi, Uh-huh! 

Ahtowan. He alone saved the tribe. 

SoYOMi But you must remember, Hotewa hasn't got a 
ivife to contend with. Say, why aren't you with the rest? 

Ahtowan. I'm going now. (Starts off, hut Tewani en- 
ters from house.) Ah, Tewani, see how the Gods have an- 
swered our prayers. The rain from heaven has covered all 
our fields. 

Tewani. Yes. Are the dancers feasting? 

Ahtowan. All but Hotewa. He stays in the Kiva with 
Cochewa. 

Tewani. Hotewa led the dance well. 

Ahtowan. The tribe must thank him much. He has brot 
back my faith which was lagging. 

Tewani He can have whatever he desires. 

Ahtowan. Yes? 

Tewani. Yes. 

Ahtowan. Not quite, perhaps. 

Tewani. Why not? 

Ahtowan. (Sloivly.) They say he desires Nampeyo. 

Tewani. I— I almost wish he could have her. 



06 THE GODS ARE GOOD 

Ahtowan. (Quick to folloto up lead.) Why not, Tewani? 
He loves Nampeyo. 

Tewani. I believe it. 

Ahtowan. I know it. 

Tewani. I — (then harshly) — but I've promised her to 
Tanto. There's an end of it. 

Ahtowan. Why? 

Tewani. Because Tewani's word is absolute. I have sworn 
it. Would not the Gods have vengeance on me? 

Ahtowan. But what of Tanto and the scoffer? Tanto 
sided today with Nikano. 

Tewani. The scoffer? Yes, I know, but Tanto means well. 

Ahtowan. And fools them all. 

Tewani. (Going on.) He is very rich. 

Ahtowan. Rich! Yes! But what are riches? Are riches 
all we should wish for our little girl? Is there not something 
more than riches? 

Tewani Surely, — but Nampeyo will be happy with Tanto. 

Ahtowan. I deny it. 

Tewani. You think she will not? 

Ahtowan. I know she will not. 

Tewani Oh, you're wrong there, Ahtowan. Tanto is a 
good man even if he does talk too much. Besides I have sworn 
it, and it must be done. 

Ahtowan. Even if she should be unhappy for life? 

Tewani. My word would never be good again I tell you. 

Ahtowan. Even tho it is to one like Tanto? 

Tewani. Stop, Ahtowan, I have promised. The Gods 
would not let me turn away from my promise. 

Ahtowan. Think once more, Tewani, Nampeyo is too 
precious to sacrifice in this way. The Gods will never punish 
truth. 

(Exit Ahtowan.) 

Tewani. (Looking after him.) Hotewa saved us. I won- 
der! (Walks a few steps thinking, then stops.) No! It is — ? 
O, I don't know. (To doorway.) Nampeyo. 

Nampeyo. (Within.) Yes, father. 

(Enter Nampeyo. Thruout this scene she is very quiet, 
sad and subdued.) 



THE GODS ARE GOOD 57 

Tewani. Little daughter, Sipala of my heart, how like 
your mother you are! 

Nampeyo. Am I, father? 

Tewani Those same eyes! That same smile! Oh, that 
was a happy day when she came to me so long ago. 

Nampeyo. Yes? 

Tewani. A happy day! Nampeyo, you have always been 
a dutiful daughter. 

Nampeyo. (Resignedly.) Yes, father. 

Tewani. Tonight my blessing goes with you and Tanto. 
Go now and make ready, and pray the Gods for luck. 

Nampeyo. Yes, father. 

(Exit Nampeyo.) 

Tewani. Does she care, too? I thot she always admired 
Tanto. 

(Boy runs onto stage.) 

Boy. They're playing the Pa-ta-wa-ke. Come and see. 

(Boy runs out with Tetvani folloicing Mm. As soon as 
they are off the stage Nampeyo comes out of doorivay above — 
looks down toward Kiva.) 

Nampeyo. Oh, Hotewa, my true one! They say you are 
still down there grieving over Cochewa. They do not know 
what it is. Only you and I know, Hotewa, just you and I. 
You did your duty; you saved the tribe. And only / can know 
how hard it was for you — how much it hurt you. But it was 
right, dear, Nampeyo knows it now, and you can never know 
how much she loves you for it. 

(Exit Nampeyo thru doorway, saying ''Good hye" as she 
goes. Enter people shouting and laughing. Orchestra sounds 
opening chords of ''Song of Rejoicing,''' to tune of Troyer's 
Zuni ''Hymn of the Sun.'') 

People. — (Singing the "Song of Rejoicing.") 

GlELS — 

The rain, the rain from heaven, 

Is falling, — is falling. 

It falls upon the house-tops, 

We welcome it with joy. 

It falls upon the Hopi corn. 

And thru it signs of life are born. 



58 THE GODS ARE GOOD 

So welcome, ye rain drops — 
For the Gods will not forget 
Their people, so faithful. 
Listen, — just listen. 
Men — 

Crystal streams in murmurs faint 
Bursting forth without restraint. 
Life and laughter in the sound 
Of the rain drops do abound. 
They are messengers of love 
From the spirits of above. 
Bringing light and life and joy 
From the Gods who dwell on high, — 
Gods on high — Gods on high. 
Listen, — just listen. 
All — 

Praises to the Gods of heaven, 

For the rain, earth's fruitful leaven. 

'Tis the rain! 'Tis the rain! 
For our corn its blessed power 
Brings to us a bounteous dower. 
We will pile our storehouse high 
Death and hunger from us fly. 
Oh, hearken to the rain-God's voice 
Beckoning our souls to rise. 
For still the Gods do not forget, 
And they love their people yet. 
As light and song in one unite, 
Let us forever bless their might. 
Oh, Gods of heaven, 
Our thanks to Thee be given. 
Response from without — The rain is come. 
Shout from without — Come, join the Pa-ta-wa-ke. 
People. Oh! the Pa-ta-wa-ke! etc. 
(Exeunt all. Loud shout heard off stage. Enter Hoteica 
from Eiva.) 

HoTEWA. (At Kiva entrance as flute plays softly.) Alik- 
sai! The Gods have pointed the way. It is decided. (Walks 
over to house.) Good bye, Nampeyo. Oh, how I want to speak 
to you. (Noise increases off stage.) Good bye, old Oraibi; I 



THE GODS ARE GOOD 59 

have loved your houses and your byways. Now I must leave 
you, never again to wander by your cliffs, (Noise again.) They 
must not see me. (Starts away, then looks back.) Oh, if I 
could only speak to you. 

(Music and laughter louder and nearer. Hotewa hurries 
out in opposite direction. At the entrance he stops.) 

To the Tehua people! Good bye Oraibi and Nampeyo. I 
have nothing left to stay for. May you be happy, Sipala! 
Good bye. 

(Exit Hotewa right. Noise increases off left — shouting 
and laughter. Enter merrymakers. Play game.) 

Ahwante. We want Hotewa. 

Others. Yes, Hotewa, — bringer of the rain. 

Ahwante. Where is he now? 

Ahtowan. Still in the Kiva of the flute priests. 

YowYTEWA. Call him to join us. 

Ahtowan. No, didn't I tell you to leave him alone? Co- 
chewa fathered him and kept him. Let him be tonight. 

Ahwante. Where's Nampeyo? 

Others. Yes — Nampeyo. Call her — Call Hotewa and Nam- 
peyo. 

Tewani. Be quiet, Nampeyo is making ready for her 
marriage — to Tanto. 

Others. (Surprised.) Tanto? Will she really marry 
him? Tanto has forsaken the Gods. 

Te\vani. Yes, she loill marry Tanto. 

(Noise subsides. Crowd falls to playing games again — 
laughter, and hilarious fun. One calls from outside and all 
exeunt center. Enter Nampeyo above.) 

Nampeyo. (Tearfully.) Yes, I will marry Tanto. Oh, my 
father, I have been a good daughter. (Stretches out her hands 
to Kiva. Starts down ladder, walks to Kiva entrance. There 
she looks around fearfully.) No one can keep me from saying 
good bye to Hotewa. (To Kiva, tvith feeling.) My Hotewa. 
(Peers in but can't see him.) Where is he? (Starts doicn 
ladder.) Hotewa, answer me, it's Nampeyo. (A cry is heard 
below. She comes up sobbing.) He is gone! (Looks around 
her.) Gone! Oh, where is he? (Calls.) Hotewa. Hotewa. 



60 THE GODS ARE GOOD 

(Falls on dench sohding. Merrymakers come running back — 
see her and are silent.) 

Ahwante. Why, Nampeyo, what's the matter? 

Nampeyo. (Sobbing.) Where's Hotewa? 

Ahwante. Hotewa? 

Nampeyo. Yes — he — he's gone. 

Others. Gone? 

Nampeyo. Yes, I looked into the Kiva but I couldn't see 
him, and then I called and he didn't answer; and then I went 
down — but — he — wasn't there. (Falls over on bench in grief.) 

(Enter Notawa.) 

NoTAWA. What's the matter? 

All. (Confusedly.) Hotewa — gone — not there, etc. 

NoTAWA. Maybe it was Hotewa I saw. 

Others. Did you see him? Where — etc. 

NoTAWA. I was coming up the Qua-tai trail just now and 
saw someone going off toward Dokoslid. 

Others. Dokoslid? 

Nampeyo. Dokoslid? Then it was he. And he's gone. 

Others. Where? How do you know? etc. 

Nampeyo. To the Tehuas. 

Others. Let's find him. Hurry. 

(All but Tewani and Nampeyo run out left excitedly. 
Nampeyo watches them a moment, then sadly starts up the 
ladder and finally exits.) 

Tewani. (Watching her.) Hotewa gone, and Nam- 
peyo feels so sad! I wonder. Is it all a mistake? (Walks 
around still watching Nampeyo.) Perhaps my desire for the 
lucky basket was too great. (Pause.) Was Ahtowan right? 
(Shouting heard outside.) 1 might have waited. (Walks up 
and down in agitation, stands irresolute.) But I have promised 
it, — have sworn it by the Gods. (Starts to climb ladder. 
Shouts grow louder outside.) What is it? 

(Enter Notawa running. Tewani is on first level.) 

Notawa. (Pointing back.) Chief. (Out of breath.) 
Nikano! (Points out.) Nikano, the scoffer — 

Tewani. What about him? 

Notawa. Over the cliff. (Makes motion of falling.) 
Every bone broken. (Starts to run out on other side.) 



THE GODS ARE GOOD 61 

Tewani. Wait. Hey! Tell me. (But he is gone. Te- 
wani comes down ladder confusedly.) Nikano dead? Coche- 
wa's prophecy! (Shouting louder outside.) And Tanto! — a 
scoffer, too. Am I going to give Nampeyo to an unbeliever? 
Nikano dead! (Starts out hut people enter excitedly.) 

Ahwante. Nikano is dead. 

Tewani. How was it? 

Ah w ANTE. Fell from the cliff. Cochewa said it. The 
Gods have their vengeance. 

lowANO. And Tanto is next. 

(Tewani starts.) 

Others. Tanto, the scoffer! 

Tewani. (Aside.) Can I make her suffer for my promise? 

Ahw^ante. Here he comes now. 

People. (Confusedly.) Tanto! Shame! Scoffer! 

Tewani. (Aside.) No, by the Gods, I will not. 

(Enter Tanto, the same look of disregard on his face. 
He is a strong man and hrave. He has acted according to his 
convictions. Still naughty. Others turn aioay.) 

Tanto. Well! (Silence. Pause ensues. Some walk away. 
None look at him.) Well! Am I a dog that you kick me thus? 
Speak! (Pause.) Ha, ha! you cowards. Has this Hotewa so 
befuddled your brains? Are you all mad? 

(Starts away.) 

Ahtowan. (Quietly, after him.) Are you so wanton, 
Tanto, that you can still utter your blasphemies in the very 
presence of the Gods? 

Tanto. (Turning and contemptuously sivinging his robe 
around him.) The Gods indeed! 

Tewani. (Breaking in, unable to control himself longer.) 
Aye, Tanto, the Gods! Do you still make little of the Gods of 
Heaven? 

Tanto. (Haughtily.) I have nothing to say about your 
Gods. 

Ahtowan. But what of the r^in — this answer to our 
prayer? 

Tanto. A shower opportunely come! — as if our flutes 
could call the rain! 



62 THE GODS ARE GOOD 

Tewani. And shall I give my daughter to one who scoffs 
at the givers of rain? No, Tanto, never! 

(Tanto wheels toioard Tewani.) 

Here, take your eagle basket. (Throws it at his feet. 
People muj'mur and draiv hack, saying, ''The Sacred Eagle 
Basket!'' Leave center of stage clear for Tewani and Tanto. 
Tanto contemptously kicks the basket aside, still looking at 
Teioani.) Will the basket of an unbeliever bring good luck? 
No, none shall say that my Nampeyo is married to a scoffer. 

CNampeyo is in front of the crowd. She comes out hy 
Tewani, who puts his arm around her while with the other he 
motions Tanto away.) 

Tanto. What? Will you break your promise? 

Tewani. I will! 

Tanto. (Enraged.) You cannot. You have sworn it. I 
demand her. (Starts toward them.) 

Tewani. (Gesturing with free hand.) Away. 

Tanto, What will your promises be worth hereafter? 
(Pause.) Shall these people call you "oath breaker?' 

Tewani. Away. 

Tanto. Even your Gods will not believe you. 

Tewani. My Gods, you say? They are the Gods of truth 
and not of wanton blasphemy. 

Tanto. Gods of truth indeed! Your oath is broken. 

Tewani. My oath broken? ^es! (Puts Nampeyo aside 
and confronts Tanto.) Tanto, by the Gods I swore it — by the 
Gods at whom you scoff. And now by these same Gods I take 
away. These people are witness to what I do. 

People. Ah! 

(Tanto starts toward him, but Teioani meets him ivith up- 
lifted hand.) 

Tewani. Begone, scoffer. It is I, Tewani, the chief, who 
commands it. Go. 

(Tanto and Tewani hold pose for a minute and then Tanto, 
with a little ''Ha!'' turns and ivalks off. People have mean- 
while crowded up, but sink back as he goes. He gives one 
more glance of defiance as he goes out. Exit Tanto. As soon 
as he is gone the crowd breaks into turmoil. His personality 
has held them while he, was there, but now that he is gone, 



THE GODS ARE GOOD ^^ 



the people surge forward and some rush after him calling him 
''Scoffer, hlasphemer;' etc.) 

TEWANi. Stop. Back to the feast. Is all Oraibi to be 

overturned by one such scoffer? , , ^^ 

(People move of! stage, leaving Chief in center of stage. 

Nampeyo stands hy the wall of the house. He does not see 

her He sinks down on the stone at the Kiva entrance.) 

' Oh little Nampeyo, my daughter, can you ever forgive me? 
I would have given you to Tanto. (Hides face in hands) 

(Meanwhile Nampeyo comes slowly up to him and quietly 
puts her arm around his neck. He looks up.) 
Oh, Nampeyo, I thot it was for the best. 
NAMPEYO. I know, father. I know. You always do what 
you Think is best for me. It's a way they have-these tathers 
and mothers. 

TEWANI. (Choking.) And now, I fear— 

NAMPEYO. There, there. Come now. (Leads him up lad^ 

der.) 

(Ahwante comes running in.) 

AHW^NTE. Hotewa is gone. No one can find him. 

TEWANI. (Turning as he climM ladder.) Not find him 
yeV Have they searched Sityat-ki? 

AHWANTE Everywhere! We have been everywhere. 

TEWANI. But he must be found. Take all the young men 

hand) Oh! The wrath of the Gods is upon me. 

'(Enter Ahtoioan above, hurries to him, helps Mm.) 

Ah! Ahtowan, (Leans on him.) I am a broken man. 
would have given her to a seoUer. 

Nampeyo. But you didn't, father. 

TEWANI. Oh, you were right, Ahtowan. I knew it al the 
time, but my pride-you know what a "an's pride .s. It has 
eaten my heart away this day. And my daughter- 

Nampeyo. Come, father. 

TEWANI. I have destroyed her gladness. 



64 THE GODS ARE GOOD 

Nampeyo. No, I am as happy as was mother that day so 
long ago. (Smiles at him.) 

Tewani. Nampeyo! 

Ahtowan. Surely they will find Hotewa! 

Tewani. Who can tell? I fear he is gone forever. 

(Nampeyo and Ahtowan help the "broken old man into the 
doorway. Distant sound of reveller's song as curtain des- 
cends.) 

CURTAIN 
End of Act III 



EPILOGUE 



'THE GODS ARE GOOD' 



65 



EPILOGUE 



THE PUEBLO 

(Scene opens in darkness — music of Act I, Scene I. The 
only light on the stage is that which comes from the open 
doorway of TewanVs house. Mooa, clothed as in Act I, Scene 
I, enters from Kiva. He slowly ascends the ladder to the first 
roof, where he is plainly seen in the light from Tewani's 
doorway. He goes on up. Waits on top a moment as in Act I, 
Scene I. Then, in the same long-drawn-out call, he gives his 
message to the people.) 

Mooa. Hear ye! Hearken, oh people of Oraibi. Listen, 
oh, ye people of peace. Great praise be to Le-lang-uh and to 
the Gods of Heaven, for the rain — has — come. (Pause.) Give 
thanks to the Gods all you who dwell in ancient Oraibi, for the 
Gods of the Hopituh have not forsaken us in time of need. 
Ai — ee — ee! (Long drawn out.) Ai — ee — ee! (Long drawn 
out.) 

(In the pause that follows this call, Hotewa enters 
center, harely seen in the darkness. One can barely distin- 
guish his form. At the Kiva entrance he stops and hends over 
the opening.) 

HoTEWA. Oraihi! Good bye, Cochewa, good bye. (Chok- 
ing with grief.) You were loyal to the end. Your faith was 
rewarded. Good bye. May the Gods be good to you. 

(Hotewa moves from Kiva toward the houses very slowly 
and stealthily. He is startled as Mooa begins his call once 
tnore. Pose as Mooa calls.) 

MooA. Arise, you who feast this night — and call upon the 
Gods. Bless ye, the givers of the rain. Give thanks. (Long 
drawn out.) 

HoTEWA. It is Mooa calling to the people. (Walks up to 
the house; touches it, then draws away.) Oh, old Oraibi! 
How many times I've climbed your ladders! How many times 
I've gone down into your holy Kivas. Good bye, Oraibi, you 
can never be the same again to Hotewa. 

66 





r* 


^ 




B 




* 










^^^^^H 



A GLIMPSE OF HOPILAND 



THE GODS ARE GOOD 67 

(Stops a moment. Girl's voice is heard singing in Chiefs 
house.) 

Listen! It is Nampeyo. Must 1 say good bye to youf 
(Songs grows louder — then dies away. Hotewa climbs slowly 
up ladder and appears in the light from the doorway. He looks 
in.) Yes, it is farewell. I have come back for the last time — 
just to put this — baho at your door. May it bring you hap- 
piness, Nampeyo. 

MooA. Once again I call on you to give thanks to the 
Gods for their mercies. 

HoTEWA. (Bitterly.) Can / give thanks when you are 
lost, Nampeyo? (Stretches out his hands and speaks tenderly.) 
Good bye, Sipala, I shall never see you again, my peach bloom. 
Good bye! 

MooA. For the mercies of the Gods are great. 

Hotewa. May the Gods keep you safe and make you 
happy. (He places the Baho by the door.) 

Mooa. Give thanks! 

Tewani. (Withi7i.) What is it that Mooa calls tonight? 

Nampeyo. (Within, sadly.) He says, "Give thanks!" 

Tewaxi. Would the Gods we might give thanks. 

(Tewani comes to doorway and looks up. Hotetva quickly 
hides behind the corner of the ivall, and Tewani finally goes 
hack into house icithout seeing him. Hotewa comes from hid- 
ing place.) 

Mooa. Aliksai. Ai — ee — ee! Aliksai. (Long drawn out.) 

(Mooa starts down. Hotetva starts quickly for ladder to 
get away loithout being seen. As he does so Teivani comes to 
doorway, thinking it is Mooa. He sees Hotewa and starts as 
he recognizes him. Hotewa hides his face, but the Chief takes 
him by the hand. Orchestra plays softly Lieurance's "'Indian 
Flute Gall and Love Song.'' Stage is dark for a moment as 
Tewani leads the wondering Hotewa into the doorivay and 
closes the door. In the darkness Mooa silently goes out un- 
seen by the audience. Then the door opens again and Hotewa 
and Nampeyo come slowly out together. Hotetva still looks 
betvildered. They tvalk slotvly out across the first roof. Just 
as they come fi'om the doortvay there is a distant peal of 



68 THE GODS ARE GOOD 

thunder. When they are half way across, a nearer peal is 
heard with accompanying flash of lightning. Light from door 
is dimmed, while spotlight is thrown upon Hotewa and Nam- 
peyo as they silently and slowly walk along. At last, as they 
reach the farthest corner of the roof and stop, a blinding flash 
of lightning is seen, and a loud thunder clap immediately fol- 
lows. The lovers look at each other and then Hotewa draivs 
her to Mm.) 

Nampeyo. Is it true, Hotewa? 

Hotewa. Yes, my Nampeyo, the Gods are good. 

(They embrace as curtain falls.) 

END OF THE PLAY 



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